Borrowed Time
by RaineeDaze
Summary: Starring Wolverine, this story leaves off at the end of X-Men Origins - Wolverine. Logan runs from the rubble of Three Mile Island with no memory of who or what he is and ends up on a reservation in upper New York state.
1. Chapter One

_**Prologue**_:

Charlie Ray Culver was troubled. He'd just sent his son home with his three-year-old granddaughter after a weeklong visit. A visit that proved to the old man that his son wasn't handling fatherhood well. It pained him, for Charlie had always done his best for his only child. Now a man who couldn't cope was fathering his granddaughter, Jesse, the one he called Brighter Than A Thousand Suns. The Iroquois elder pulled his pipe off its hook on the wall and headed for the woods. On reaching his familiar thinking place he set about to start a fire. Rock and flint would have been the tools he favored in the past, but age had given him an appreciation for life's smaller luxuries. Pulling a pack of matches from the pocket of his denim shirt, he nursed a tendril of flame into a fire. Packing his pipe with tobacco, he raised it to the four corners of the earth. Puffing gently on its stem, he allowed the smoke to ease his troubled mind. The late afternoon sun warmed his shoulders as he relaxed against a cedar tree. Coming here to commune with the spirits gave him hope and direction. He watched the sun set, then watched it rise again. Just as he was about to force his bones into standing he felt an old, familiar feeling. The Great Spirit wanted to speak to him. Charlie knew it took spirits some time to send down their messages, so he refilled the pipe, this time offering its smoke up to the heavens. He waited, then waited some more. Off to his left he heard rustling, but paid it no mind in an effort not to miss what the Great Spirit had to say. He hoped it was something for Jesse. Some wisdom that would help him take care of that girl. It humbled him to think the Great Spirit felt he was honorable enough to receive this message, so Charlie waited the rest of the day. At dusk, he decided to wait no more. Maybe the wind had played a trick on him. Maybe the Great Spirit changed His mind. Charlie had heard no magical message, felt no wondrous change. The only thing that crossed his path the entire day was a grumpy wolverine…

_**Borrowed Time**_

By: Lorry Guffey

"Hey, there's a dude on the back step, be careful."

Jesse looked up from her orders as the lanky teenaged dishwasher breezed in, 15 minutes late.

"A dude?" she raised an eyebrow, dropping the slips of paper and threading her way thru the kitchen to peer thru the window. There was a shadowy form there, shoulders hunched against the wind. She was reaching to open the door when the diner's owner, Tony, called her from the grill.

"These cheese steaks get peppers an' onions?"

"Don't they all get peppers an' onions?" she answered, turning from the door and back into action. Tony's Diner was busy tonight. She'd have to hustle to take care of the front by herself. This was the way she liked it: rushed, a little chaotic, but under control. She knew that was the reason Tony kept putting off hiring another server. He liked watching Jesse in action. He threw her a grin as she pulled her cap down over her braided hair and smoothed out her apron. He knew she was getting down to business. His business. Making money at one of the only joints left hopping in Cedar Ridge.

She turned back to the smoky kitchen and started picking up orders. It crossed her mind to inform her boss of their latest back-step visitor, but she thought better of it, pushing thru the swinging doors, arms loaded. Tony wasn't always nice to those people. And much of the time, they were her people. She made a mental note that if he was still around, she'd throw something in a to-go carton later, when things in the diner slowed down.

Later came earlier than expected, as the joint emptied out close to 7pm. Most of the diner's regulars confessed to hurrying home to watch a big game. After checking to see if their visitor still sat on the diner's back step, Jesse made him a thick ham and Swiss sandwich with all the trimmings. It was chilly outside. She frowned over the food, wishing she could have made something hot. But that would have drawn her boss's attention, and at the moment, she didn't wanna go there. He was miffed that his customers had cut out on him, so once again she'd done something stupid and reminded him he should set up a TV in the dining room. Once again she'd gotten the speech about how that was not a good idea.

"Means customers stay too long, tie up my tables, yada, yada, yada," she mocked him under her breath, pushing out the back door with the trash and her gift of food. Never mind that tied up tables were better than empty ones. Or that if Tony's had a TV they could've all enjoyed a football party. But it wasn't her diner. It wasn't her place.

She stood for a moment waiting as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. This wasn't the first time she'd smuggled food out the back door to help someone in need. Her grandfather had instilled in her the belief that helping others out was merely being human. She knew to be wary, but tried to balance that out with compassion. It was hard for her to imagine not knowing where her next meal was coming from.

For a minute, she thought she had missed him. Shadows had lengthened and the back steps were dark. Reaching back inside, she flipped a switch that bathed them in light. The sight of him stopped in her tracks. This was no ordinary vagrant. Broad shoulders strained against the flannel of his shirt and Jesse could see thick muscled arms bulging from under his sleeves. With his chest clenched tight against his knees, and his head hanging low, for a minute she thought he was hurt. She dropped the trash bags she'd been dragging and stepped forward, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

"You ok, guy?" she asked, crouching down beside him. Her eyes grew wide as he turned to face her, grabbing the arm that offered the to-go carton. Their eyes locked, the only sound between them the squeak of Styrofoam grating against itself as the muscles in her hand were manipulated by his grip. It took him a second to focus, to realize she meant no harm. He dropped her wrist, pulling away and mumbling something that sounded like "Sorry."

"Didn't mean to scare you," she stood up, smoothing her apron and trying to act as though she hadn't seen the fire in his eyes. The danger so close to the surface it left her a little shaky.

'_Look before you leap_,' she told herself for the millionth time, chiding herself for not thinking through her actions. Her culture called her to walk in respect and compassion, but sometimes she was slow in realizing that not everybody operated on the same principles. Thanks to the genes of her grandfather, Jesse was also slow to give up, and not very good at backing down. Closing her eyes, she took a breath and remembered her mission.

"I brought you some food. Thought you might be hungry."

The stranger searched her face for what felt to Jesse like an eternity. When he seemed satisfied that she posed no threat she offered the to-go box again.

"It's just a sandwich and some fries," she shrugged, a little embarrassed. "I didn't mean to disturb you. Just thought you might need something…"

The man before her looked away and she wondered if his ego was fighting with his hunger. Most of those she'd met here had faced down that battle long before they'd ended up at Tony's.

"I'm just gonna… leave this." She settled for backing away a little this time, setting the box down at his side, and stealing one more moment to take him in. Something about him stirred her. He was obviously lost, and in more ways than one. Then she heard Tony shouting for her inside and remembered the trash, closing up early, and her boss's ill mood.

"Please," she stood up. "Take that. It'll just go in the trash if you don't. And I'm sorry." It took a while to register that she wasn't quite sure what she'd apologized for. There was nothing more she could do. She'd puzzle about the odd stranger later. For now she had work to do.

It was almost a week later before Daniel, Tony's dishwasher, announced the "homeless dude" again. He came in through the back door, smelling strongly of whatever cologne guys were using these days to cover up the scent of marijuana.

"It's nut-bustin' cold out there too, man," he added, pulling off his coat. "Wouldn't wanna be homeless on a night like tonight."

Jesse frowned at him. He was late again, and obviously heartless. His long black ponytail and dark eyes suggested he was of the same native people as she was, but he'd obviously never been taught their customary ways to be 'human'. Giving up hope that she'd ever see an ounce of compassion in him, she looked thru the grimy back window to confirm his announcement. The stranger was there all right. He didn't look quite as dejected this time, but his shoulders still slumped, and he wrapped his arms around himself against the cold.

"How do you know he's homeless?" she questioned.

Daniel gave her an are-you-kidding-me look that she knew quite well. "Only takes one wiff as you walk by to answer that one. Same shirt, same jeans. He's homeless."

"Then maybe we should help him."

"Maybe we should leave him alone, he doesn't belong here. That whole 'Thanksgiving' thing happened like 300 years ago. You don't have to reenact it every time somebody shows up out there."

"Damn," she muttered, turning on Daniel and refusing his logic.

"Don't we have a crap load of jackets in that lost-and-found box in the back closet? Maybe there's something in there that'll at least keep him warm."

Daniel just shrugged and started turning the knobs that filled up his dishwasher. He'd lost this battle with his coworker before. He was barely 19 and didn't have much practice with either patience or compassion.

"He ain't my project."

Jesse stared his back for a minute, shaking her head. She opened her mouth to start in on one of her speeches, but knew it would fall on deaf ears.

"That's what's wrong with the world anymore," she muttered to only herself. "Nobody wants to plant seeds of kindness." Seeds of California Gold, in Daniel's case maybe, but not kindness.

Pulling open the closet door revealed a box that was indeed overflowing with coats, umbrellas and other things left behind by forgetful patrons. She rummaged through, holding up several selections, then tossing them aside. Something leather and fleece near the bottom finally caught her attention, so she tugged and yanked till she finally got it out. It was the heaviest thing in the box, and looked like the right size.

"This'll work," she decided, just as she decided the stranger would surely accept it. In her mind, his saying no would be impractical. To Jesse it was simple: it was cold. Someone needed a coat. Jesse had one she could give. End of story.

"Hey… I could use a nice coat like that one," Daniel stretched one arm toward her as Jesse walked through the kitchen to the back door.

She stared him down, daring him to take it out of her arms.

"Just sayin…" the boy turned back to the stainless steel sink. "Damn, you don't have to be such a hardass."

"_**I'm**_ the hardass?" She raised one eyebrow in his direction. "I'm the one trying to help. You just keep washing those dishes… that's much more important."

"_Stupid boy_." She clutched the coat to her chest and pushed out the back door. This time it was still light. She could study the stranger, the lines on his face and the weariness in his eyes. He had no way of knowing about the young woman in front of him. He could see she was pretty, but as for her being pretty determined, that was yet to be revealed.

Jesse did her best to take him in with an air of nonchalance. It was enough that he was down on his luck; she didn't want him to think she was looking down on him. She had no idea the stranger didn't much care. That he wasn't just down on his luck, his luck was gone.

"I thought you could use this," she told him holding up a fleece-lined leather jacket, just as a cold northeasterly wind hit her full force. She shivered violently and fought against it.

"It was in the lost-and-found box. If nobody's missed it by now," She shrugged and fiddled with the jacket's brass buttons, "I figure it's yours."

He stood to his feet and tried on a smile, but it was obviously something he hadn't used in a while.

"You take care of everybody that ends up at your back door?"

His voice was like him, ragged and scruffy. Jesse smiled back, noting that the friendly emotion never quite reached his eyes.

"I heard it was supposed to get really cold out, is all." she replied, trying her best to stop her teeth from chattering. "I can take it back in if you don't think you'll need it." She half-turned back to the door.

"Oh no, I'll take it." he answered. "Just wondering why you bother to help me." He pulled the coat out of her arms, running a hand down the thick inner lining.

"You sure nobody's gonna miss this?"

"It was in our lost and found box. I think it's been there a while." She looked up at him, suppressing a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. He had dark hair that seemed to be going everywhere at once. It ran all the way down the sides of his face and along his jaw line, giving him a wolfish appearance. His eyebrows knit together in dismay as he accepted the coat. Reflexively she reached out to pluck something fuzzy off the sleeve as he shrugged it over his shoulders.

"Yeah, it's been there a while."

"Thank you."

She backed away, knowing a dismissal when she heard one. But she wasn't quite finished with her mission. "I can bring you a sandwich out later."

The stranger shrugged and shook his head a little. "You've done enough. I can handle myself."

"I didn't mean that you couldn't," she tossed her head and took a step forward. "Just thought you mighta hit a rough spot. The world would be a better place if we helped each other out. We all hit rough spots." Boldness overtook her then and from the bottom step, she stuck out her hand. "I'm Jesse Culver, by the way."

The stranger stared at her hand for a long moment. His eyes glazed over and she dropped it back to her side, feeling foolish. She was about to turn away when he reached out his own.

"I'd give you my name if I knew it." He fumbled with a flash of metal at his chest. "Dog tags say Logan. Other side says 'Wolverine'."

Her breath caught in her throat as he reached to shake her hand. She'd obviously read him wrong. Now her mind filled with questions that she knew he couldn't answer, and she could hear Tony hollering for her inside.

"Nice to meet you, Logan. Wolverine. I…" his grip was strong, the bones and muscles in his hand unflinching. "I gotta go to work but I'll be back. I'll fix you that sandwich. Hot ham and cheese?"

"Make it cheddar this time," he tried smiling again, but the sun got in his eyes and he dropped his gaze. He wasn't used to the kindness of strangers. Abuse he was well acquainted with, but this kind of stubborn compassion was new.

"Ok," Jesse flashed him a grin as she slipped inside the diner. "Hot ham and cheddar it is."


	2. Chapter Two

When she reemerged after work, her to-go package held a lot more than a sandwich. She handed it to Logan but he set it aside to give her a hand with the trash. The dumpster's sliding door made an ear-piercing shriek as he pulled it aside and started tossing bags as if they were weightless.

"A customer sent back a rib eye," she told him. She even seemed somewhat excited. "Said it was too rare. We can't put it back on the grill once it's off. Tony gave it to me, but I'm not huge on red meat."

"A rib eye?" He picked up the box with one hand and slid the door shut with the other. His look told her a rib eye at this point in time was definitely reason for excitement.

"Yeah," She buttoned up her coat against the wind. "And I heard somebody talking about the hardware store looking to hire. They sell furniture in the back and the owner said he needs somebody strong that can put it together." She turned to see that he'd already pulled a chunk of meat off the steak and popped it into his mouth.

"Maybe you could stop by…" she dropped her eyes and gave herself a mental shake, reminding herself that it wasn't polite to stare.

"You sure you're not an angel?" he asked, smiling. This time Jesse could see it was genuine, that his eyes held a spark of hope. Her thoughts wandered again to who he could be and how he could have lost his memory.

"I'm pretty sure," she tossed back, grinning. The cold metal of the doorknob against her palm snapped her back to business.

"Do you have a warm place to stay?" It was out of her mouth before she could stop it, but he shrugged off her question without committing. She'd done as much as she could do, anything more and things would get awkward.

"I'll be alright," he assured her. "You go back inside. I'll check out the hardware place in the morning."

She pulled the door open, heat rising in her cheeks.

"And thank you for helping," Logan added. Jesse turned back and flashed a smile that warmed him more than leather and fleece.

"So what happened to your homeless boyfriend?" Daniel asked one night almost three weeks later. "I ain't seen him outside in a while. You go an' piss him off?"

Jesse stared at him, annoyed. His question didn't deserve an answer. It bothered her that she hadn't seen Logan since the cold spell, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

"I think he got a job," she told the dishwasher. "At Buddy's. I've seen him going in and out of there a few times." Buddy's Hardware was across the street and down the block from Tony's, but could be seen - if one positioned themselves in just the right way - from the dining room's front counter.

Daniel shrugged. He didn't really care what happened to the stranger. He was just trying to get a rise out of his coworker. When he pissed her off her eyes started blazing and the color deepened across her cheeks. He knew any chick with her kind of exotic features was out of his league, but that didn't stop him from using his imagination in the middle of the night. He'd undressed the Iroquois waitress in his mind so many times he lost count. Instead of flashing annoyance at him, as she was always doing in reality, in his dreams she stared at him hungrily, dark eyes huge with desire. He was the only one at work who'd noticed her concern over the stranger on the back steps, and the many times she still crossed the kitchen to peek out the window.

"He's not even one of us," he snickered, turning back to a pile of dirty dishes. "You ever need a real man you know where to find me."

Jesse threw a towel in his direction. "Dumbass," she countered, impatiently picking up her orders. She was mad at herself for letting him get to her, but he wasn't the only thing bothering her. She'd hoped that maybe Logan would stop in the diner, but so far that hadn't happened. She figured maybe it was a pride thing. She reminded him of his shortcomings, his need for shelter, and she had long since figured that a guy like him had too much pride for that. Besides, maybe someone at Buddy's had given him a place to stay. Winter was almost over and he didn't really need her anymore. Jesse liked to be needed. It fueled her to do a good job. Everybody in Cedar Ridge knew it. Everybody but her.

Later, as Tony locked the front doors for the night, she announced her intention to walk the five blocks home. It was late and she didn't really care to wait on Tony to drive her. He had yet to balance the register. Jesse's place was close and the walk wouldn't take her long. She was tired and already looking forward to a soak in the tub and then her pajamas.

"I can give you a ride," Daniel grinned, approaching suggestively, and draping an arm across her shoulder. "On my mo…tor… cy…cle."

She slid out from under him, laughing at the childish 'vroom vroom' noises coming out of his mouth. They were hardly a turn on.

"Umm, no. That would be a no, Dan. I'll walk down the alley."

"You're just hopin' to see your boyfriend," he sang to her, snickering as she pulled open the back door and flipped him a bird in the same graceful motion.

"Good night, Daniel." She feigned sweetness, then pushed the door shut in his face. She listened as Tony's voice carried thru the closed door. "Why you always have to be givin' her a hard time, Shithead?"

Jesse laughed and skipped down the steps, pulling her jacket a little closer as she turned toward home.

She'd gone nearly three blocks before she noticed the sound of somebody walking behind her. She'd been too busy peering down each alley that connected with hers, hoping to see Logan. If she hadn't had her head in the clouds, she'd have noticed it sooner: footfalls that matched her own. Slowing when she slowed, speeding up when she gave in to the sliver of fear that washed thru her veins. She wanted to turn and look, to see who was behind her, but she didn't dare.

'Every little thing's gonna be alright…' She tried to calm herself with a mantra she'd heard her grandfather say to her a million times. Unfortunately, the familiar words did nothing to ward off whatever was behind her. Her heart pounded faster when she heard other skittering footsteps join the first. This time she dared a glance over her shoulder. Three toughs she'd never seen before where huddled up behind her. They looked up when they noticed she'd seen them and caught up to her in a run.

"What's cookin' mama?" One of them said. He tried to grab her arm but she pulled out of his grasp.

"Get away from me," she sneered, almost falling backwards in order to stay free. He smelled as if he'd bathed in beer and his eyes danced with an unnatural light. Defiance and fear began to wrestle inside her. She had two more blocks till home, but the alley here was no longer lit by streetlights. Shadows loomed dark and menacing as she turned and started to run. One of the gang chose that moment to stick out a foot and trip her up. She flew head long into the street, forcing herself quickly into a roll in an attempt to get back on her feet. Pain exploded in her shoulder and knee.

"I said get away!" she shouted, this time unable to keep the panic out of her voice. She scrambled backward while the men surrounded her. A cry escaped her as they advanced, laughing. She could tell they were getting excited, dancing from foot to foot with anticipation of the fun they were about to have. The things they said to encourage each other chilled her blood.

Jesse steeled herself and stood up. While her hand had been in her pocket, she'd grabbed her keychain, pushing the keys between her fingers. It wasn't much of a weapon but it was something. Adrenaline began kicking in. If she was going down, she decided she was taking someone with her.

"Come on then," she shouted. "Let's see what you got." Heat began to rise in her cheeks. Her eyes flashed as defiance grew louder than fear. There was enough of her grandfather's blood in her veins to remind her that she was a warrior. She embraced that thought, instead of the panic trying to rise within her.

Two of the men stepped closer, one reaching out and pulling her against his chest.

"I'll show you what I got, bitch," he assured her, speech low and menacing. "But don' be so anxious. Don' you know we boys like to play with our food before we eat it?" He pulled down on her hat as she swung at him. Caught off balance, her first blow flew off course, but her keys found their mark, leaving red welts behind on his neck.

Instead of angering him all three of them laughed even louder, stepping back to make fun of her fumbled attempt at defending herself. They never heard the high-pitched 'snickt' of metal scraping metal, or the low growl building in the shadows.

Jesse screamed once more, lunging forward, and suddenly the alley exploded into action. Logan burst out of the shadows, catching her around the waist and dropping her behind him in one swift motion. He stood in the street, snarling, arms low and stiff, long metal blades flashing in each balled fist. Jesse knew with certainty he could have gutted all three of them easily, but he waited. Her attackers backed away, sizing him up, but only for a minute. Obviously, their stupid quotient was high. As if on signal they descended on Logan in fury, only to scatter with the wind as he kicked the closest one high in the chest. The next was pulled off his feet and dangled by his collar. He hung there, silhouetted by moonlight, six glittering blades inches away from taking off his head. For a second Jesse thought she saw Logan smile.

"You got something to give to me?" he growled, as blood began to trickle down the second guy's neck. Suddenly he lost all bravado and began to whimper. Logan dropped him hard to his knees. At this the last one took off running, leaving his companions writhing in the street, one cowering in fear and one still unable to catch his breath.

"Think you're bad, pickin on a little girl, huh?" He pushed the thug back on his heels. Before Jesse's eyes, the blades disappeared and he sent the guy sprawling with a solid uppercut to the jaw.

"Fuckin' trash," he muttered, shaking his fist as if to get rid of something dirty on his knuckles.

Sirens could be heard now as he turned his attention to Jesse. She hesitated a little at his approach, then sprang into his arms. Her whole body shook as she felt his strong arms wrap around her.

"You're alright, kid. You're safe."

His words of comfort in her ear only fueled a torrent of anger and tears. She shouted something unintelligible over his shoulder and tried her best to get free so she could add in a few more licks of her own. She didn't realize she'd been screaming obscenities till Logan's repeated admonitions to calm down finally sank into her ears. Her only satisfaction was in seeing the three red scratches on her initial attacker's neck begin to swell and seep blood. A police car pulled up and Logan physically sat her down on a set of steps behind them. She was still shaking, but nodded when he told her he was going to talk to the cops.

"Stay right there," he pointed his finger at her. "Just stay. Over there. You'll be alright."

Cold seeped into every fiber of her being as the reality of what almost happened hit her full force. She watched the scene unfold in front of her as if from a very great distance. Flashing red and blue lights illuminated two thugs being cuffed and hauled away. One of the officers came toward her. She recognized him. Ben Greyhawk had been a friend of her family for years.

"Jesse? You ok? You need a doctor? They hurt you?" He knelt down in front of her.

She shook her head no.

"What the hell happened?"

"I just wanted to walk home from work," she started, feeling a flood of emotion as the adrenaline coursing through her tapered off. "I thought I'd be safe. I thought it would be ok. I only live five blocks from work, Ben. This is Cedar Ridge, for God's sake." She held out her hand in a pitiful gesture, revealing the keys she still clutched there. Wiping impatiently at tears that continued to leak from her eyes, she felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders. It was the jacket she'd given Logan. She shuddered and pulled the fabric closer.

"You saved my life," she looked up at Logan. "They would have killed me when they were finished…" The words stuck in her throat. "They were gonna…"

"Shhh," he sat beside her and closed his hand over hers, keychain and all. "It's over now. They're going to jail. Nobody's getting killed on my watch. You're ok."

She stared at him as his words sank into her being like a balm. He'd been watching. He was repaying her kindness by saving her life. She sat still, trying to wrap her head around this concept, until the police and then paramedics were sure she wasn't hurt, then she looked up at Logan.

"Can we go home now?"

The whine in her voice totally disarmed him. He'd just seen her launch herself at three solidly built and obviously dangerous men, but now that they were gone, she sounded like a fretful child.

He nodded, offering a hand to help her to her feet.

By the time they got to her apartment all pretense had dissolved between them. She asked him to stay there at least for the night, confessing that she wouldn't be able to sleep without him there. He agreed, looking around her living room. The whole place was full of Native American artifacts. It intrigued him, and he had to admit, anything would be better than the alley.

The phone rang then and Jesse picked it up, watching Logan as he examined her collection. Tony's voice came on the other line asking if she was ok. Somebody had told him they'd seen her in the alley surrounded by cops. She nearly had to shout into the phone to get his attention and assure him that everything was all right.

"I might take the day off tomorrow tho." She told him, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. He readily agreed. Again, she was sharply reminded of the reality of tonight's events. She sank onto her sofa, grabbing a nearby pillow and holding it close.

"You sure you're ok?" Tony prodded again.

"Yes," she sighed into the phone. "I'm ok. Someone's staying over tonight. I'll call you in the morning."

She hugged her pillow tight and listened as Logan rummaged around in the kitchen.

"You got anything to drink?" he asked, coming around the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. "Soda, beer, whiskey? You look like you could use… something."

The answer to his question eluded her for a long moment. She was still processing events, and having him here, so close, was causing an emotional overload.

"I think there's some wine in the fridge," she replied, finally becoming impatient with herself. She stood up and took an unsteady step forward, then ran to the bathroom to throw up.

"Maybe wine's not such a good idea right now," he offered, following her down the hall with a bottle in hand. She sat in front of her toilet staring up at him. How could he be so casual when she'd almost just been raped and murdered? He crouched on the floor to get to her level.

"You're safe now," he said, voice low and gravely. "You're ok. We're gonna go on with our lives and we're not gonna let this freak us out anymore. Right?"

"Right," she responded, accepting the cool, damp towel he offered, then reaching up for the bottle of wine.

Back in the living room he reached up to touch the glass of a shadowbox that held a colorfully beaded belt.

"What is this?" he asked over his shoulder.

"That's a wampum belt," she offered. "Given to me when my grandfather died. It tells his story." She watched him take a step toward another artifact, a feather-decorated hunting axe in a frame. He liked that one, turning toward her with one raised eyebrow.

"You could do a little damage with that."

"Just a little." She decided to tell him at some later point that the leather strips dangling from the handle were meant to symbolize scalps taken in battle.

"Very cool picture," he turned his attention to a piece of artwork that took up most of the wall above her television.

"It's a wolverine," she told him. "My grandfather said it's my 'spirit animal'.

Logan stared at her for a very long time. "Really."

"Yes," she said, flopping down on the couch and picking up her TV remote.

"No, don't," Logan said, raising a hand. "Tell me more about this."

She stood to her feet and joined him in front of the painting. It depicted a gray and black wolverine crouching in the forest; mouth bloody from a kill still held under its claws. The trees behind it stood in dark contrast, silhouetted by the moon and snow. Jesse knew it's every line by heart. Not so much for the artistry itself, but because of the prominence her grandfather had always given it.

"It's just a wolverine," she told him.

"And this is a drawing of plans for a long house," she said, moving to another wall. "It's how the Iroquois people lived. Grandparents, parents, children, all in the same house. It's what the word 'Iroquois' means; People of the Long House."

"Why is a wolverine your spirit animal?"

Jesse looked over her shoulder, surprised to see him still lingering over the painting.

"My grandfather told me it came to him. He and my father were doing their sweathouse ritual thing. Don't eat for two days, smoke and sit around a fire putting water in a big pot of hot stones. I was never included…" for the first time she saw the intensity in his blue eyes. It got her full attention.

"Why do you want to know about wolverines?"

He shook his head, as if to clear his mind, but said nothing. Instead, he pulled out his dog tags and Jesse stepped closer to read. She tried hard not to let him see the way the words affected her, covering the impact by over-acting her surprise.

"Oh wow, yeah… I remember that now. Freaky coincidence, huh?"

Logan continued to peer at her, not noticing that his hands had balled into fists and his knuckles were white. "Coincidence," he muttered, turning back to the picture. He half-turned back to her, sniffing the air as though he smelled something funny.

"Wolverines are tough," she said, talking a little louder than necessary in an attempt to cover how one word on a piece of metal affected her.

"Fierce as their brother the bear, but faster and smaller. They are tricksters and ill-tempered most of the time. I don't know why my grandfather thought a grumpy old warrior would protect me, but he was very insistent. He's the one who gave me this painting as a gift. So I would never feel like I was all alone in the world." Her eyes glazed a little as she remembered the old man.

"Silly superstition, I guess."

Logan let out a dissatisfied grunt and turned from the painting. He shrugged but Jesse could see disappointment in his eyes. She wanted to reach for him, to apologize for not having any of the answers he needed, but she held back. She wanted more time to ponder these things on her own.


	3. Chapter Three

Days later, back at the diner, Tony was still trying to comprehend everything that had happened to his waitress. She assured him everything was fine, but there were things he had yet to understand.

"So what you're telling me is that this guy is staying with you now?" He shook his head at Jesse from the kitchen side of the pass thru window that separated the dining room, cash register and front counter from the rest of the diner.

"He's not just some random guy," she responded. "He saved my life and yes, he's staying with me. He has his own room. It's not like anything weird is going on." She was tired of defending herself and raised a warning hand to Daniel so he wouldn't even think to chime in. It didn't work.

"Yeah. He's a guy who don't even remember his name," Daniel added, and for a minute Jesse wondered if he was concerned, or just wanting to see her in trouble with their boss. "Everybody on the rez is talkin' about it. Nobody knows where he came from. Not even him."

"He'll remember eventually," Jesse defended, thankful for once for the tinkling bell over the front door announcing a new group of customers. What Daniel said was true. Logan had become something of a local hero since the news came out of her attack. Jesse was proud of the way her community had responded to him since he came to her rescue. At least most of the community.

Turning to greet her incoming guests, Jesse grinned at Ben Greyhawk and two of his deputies, thankful that at least now Tony and Daniel would be too busy to continue to pry into her life.

"You guys need a menu?" She asked, mostly out of courtesy. She was pretty sure they already knew it by heart.

Each shook his head so she pulled out a pad to take their orders. Three plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast and a pot of coffee later, they settled in to eat their meal.

"Jesse," Ben motioned her back to their table. Out of habit she grabbed a fresh pot of coffee and refilled their cups as he spoke.

"Those thugs that jumped you the other night, thought you might wanna know they were both extradited to Texas, yesterday. They had rap sheets a mile long. Way over the limit on alcohol. Dirty drug tests, too. Thought you might sleep better tonight knowing they're gone."

He held her gaze for a moment, giving her a funny look. It took her a minute to figure out that maybe Tony and Daniel weren't the only ones questioning her choice to take in a new room mate.

"How's Logan?" He added, making his point.

Jesse's brown cheeks reddened but she forced a smile. It helped that the young deputy beside Ben rolled his eyes at his superior behind his cup of coffee.

"He's fine," she said softly, bowing her head to exaggerate deference to his position. He wasn't just the county sheriff, he was a tribal elder as well.

"I'll let him know you asked about him."

"Just want you to think about what you're doing," Greyhawk added. "He chose to help you. That doesn't mean you owe him anything."

"If it wasn't for Logan I'd be in a body bag at the morgue and those thugs would still be in jail in New York on murder charges," she returned. "You could at least appreciate the fact that he saved you some paper work."

She reached across the table and picked up their empty plates, braid tossing as she turned her back and carried them into the kitchen. Daniel ducked as she threw them all into the sink.

"Do you all think I'm stupid?"

Without waiting for an answer, she pushed through the doors and back to the cash register.

"Not stupid," Ben said, pulling out his wallet. "Stubborn. But not stupid. You vouch for Logan, I'll trust your judgment. You know where to find me if it turns out you're wrong."

* * *

><p>Later that evening Jesse and Logan tried a game a local doctor had suggested might serve to jog some of his memories. She threw out a word and he tossed back whatever came to his mind. So far none of the 'tag words' she'd come up with had offered anything new, and Jesse wondered if it wasn't better this way. The fact that he was a warrior was obvious, but Jesse could sense his weariness too. Wherever he'd come from before had taken a toll, and it was Jesse's opinion that he needed time away from all that. She was also aware that any memory recall could take him away.<p>

"_Someday some beautiful wife with three kids is gonna come driving through town in search of their missing person and then he'll be gone_." She told herself often, after the night had worn down and they'd said their goodnights and she laid alone in her bed.

"_It's crazy to think of him as anything more than a friend_."

But she didn't want to listen. She was falling for Logan. He'd become a new audience she could share tribal stories with. He listened and asked questions, allowing her to show off her knowledge to someone who hadn't already heard it all. And he knew how to make life more fun. She loved the lines that crinkled up at the corners of his eyes when he tried to trick or surprise her. The frown that furrowed his eyebrows when he played their game and dutifully searched his memory. Jesse knew she was on borrowed time with Logan. He wasn't hers and never would be. But she loved him anyway, allowing the bittersweet nature of their relationship to grow inside her, ever knowing the more she let herself become attached, the more painful it would be when she had to let go.

Logan didn't think about any of this. He was happy with the way things were going. His job was good and he was able to split the bills with Jesse. Knowing there would be no more nights spent in alleys gave him a sense of peace. His time on the outside looking in had given him a greater appreciation for even the smallest of life's simple gifts. He'd found someone he could talk to in his new roommate and that in itself was a balm to his soul.

Sometimes he felt dark, suffocating surges of anger, but he couldn't connect to their reason. Thankfully, his job at the hardware store was physical, but when things got too intense, he hit the local gym and spent those rages on heavy boxing bags and free weights. He worked hard to keep the dark part of himself hidden, knowing that if he wanted to keep his new life he would need to stay under the radar. A concept that would have been easier if he'd had the luxury of knowing exactly where on the radar he'd been.

For now the present was worth preserving, so when he felt unexplainable anger start to rise, he sought creative means to diffuse it in ways no one would wonder about. He bought a used motorcycle from a co-worker, tinkering with it till it ran as smooth as butter. When he could, he grabbed Jesse from the diner and they screamed out of town, exploring the foothills of the near-by mountains. Upper New York State was Jesse's homeland. The place her ancestors had inhabited for centuries. He liked taking her to places where she could forget her responsibilities and connect to her past. To Logan, who had no past, these times were meaningful. He never mentioned it but he also liked the change that came over her when she was in the wilderness. Here, he imagined her as wild as her surroundings. She could track local wildlife, forage for food or gather herbs she'd take home and dry for their various purpose. They made up a game of hide and seek and more often than not it took all his feral senses to find her. Jesse bloomed in solitary places, and with Logan's encouragement, she felt secure enough to simply be who she was. He never made fun of her for taking the time to listen to the wind, or commune with the nature that surrounded them. He listened as she taught him the lore passed down to her by her grandfather. Her whole culture intrigued him. For once it felt like he had found a friend.

It was on one of these wilderness bike rides that Jesse punched his shoulder to suggest they turn down an unused gravel road. They sped north until they were churning up nothing but dirt, then she signaled him to take a left up a forgotten trail. They drove till the woods made it difficult, then Logan stopped his machine.

"Where the hell are we, Pocahontas?" he asked, around a thick cigar he kept clenched in his teeth.

She dismounted and pulled off her helmet, her thick ebony braid falling halfway down her back. "This is the middle of nowhere, Wolverine," she countered, leaving the helmet on the motorcycle's seat and walking down a narrow trail.

"Charlie Ray's place."

He followed her warily, not seeing anything resembling anyone's 'place,' until they rounded a bend and crossed a swiftly flowing creek. Up ahead he saw the remains of a cabin, with pieces of crude wooden fencing littering the yard. Jesse crossed a rotting porch, stepped through the doorway and stopped.

"Somebody lived here?"

"My grandfather," she answered, entering and stepping around a broken chair. The cabin consisted of one room with a rock lined fire pit in the center. What was left of kitchen cabinets hung haphazardly on the wall to the left. Jesse went right, to the old man's sleeping area. She knelt before a makeshift bed and reached underneath it. Logan's eyes narrowed as she retrieved an ornate wooden box and set it on an old wooden table. Inside were wampum belts that had lost their luster and would serve no good on display. He could tell they were genuine, not reproductions made to sell to tourists. She palmed something that he couldn't see, then turned to him and held out her hand. A fist-sized wooden wolverine lay there, made shiny and smooth by many hours spent in little hands.

"I think this is yours."

Logan took the carving like the sacred piece it was and gave Jesse a quizzical look. "It can't be."

"It can if I give it to you," she smiled, turning back to the box. This was a magical moment to her. Her grandfather had foreseen it. A little girl watched over by a courageous wolverine. No matter if his past caught up with him and took him from her today, she was happy.

"Your grandfather made this for you?" Logan asked thickly. Emotions weren't his strong suit. He allowed his fingers to close over her offering, feeling the smooth warmth of wood against his calloused fingers.

"Yes," she said simply. She turned back to the table and dug around in the depths of the box. A file of papers rested inside, along with a long knife and collection of arrowheads.

"My mother was never the maternal type," she said, pulling out the papers and trailing her fingers over several arrowheads that rested underneath.

"She and my dad never made it together. She took me and left when I was born. Then she was back two months later. Guess that was all of me she could take. My dad had no idea what to do with a daughter. But my grandfather did. He taught me to fish and to hunt and make these…" She pulled out a particularly large chunk of stone that was vaguely triangle shaped and smiled.

"He told me my arrowheads would take down the strongest buck and feed my family for a winter." Looking into Logan's eyes, she smiled.

"Sometimes grandfathers lie."

"He always sang that Bob Marley song to make me feel better. You know, 'Three Little Birds?" She glanced at Logan to see if he knew the words but only got back a blank stare.

"Don't think I know that one," he admitted, lowering himself carefully onto an ancient wooden chair.

"Don't worry about a thing. Cuz every little thing, is gonna be alright…?" She sang a few bars to see if they might jog his memory, figuring everybody knew the words by heart. When they registered no response except his encouragement to keep singing, she continued.

"Don't worry – about a thing – cuz every little thing is gonna be alright." She leaned across the table, raising an eyebrow. Logan shrugged apologetically.

"It was his favorite song." The eyes that watched as Logan picked up one of her arrowheads lost focus as Jesse allowed her memory to overtake her. She was once again a little girl, sitting on Charlie Ray's knee, playing absently with the bone and bead necklace he always wore. His voice didn't carry like Bob Marley's, but it always calmed her. Even now, the grown up Jesse could feel warm tendrils of peace.

"Every little thing is gonna be alright."

"He was a good man." Her voice trailed off for an awkward moment as she wondered if she was boring her friend. She gave Logan an apologetic smile and turned away, wondering if she was the only one who sensed the heaviness of her grandfather's spirit in this place. She could still see him standing at the back door, wind blowing his long gray hair. Brick walls and glass had made him feel claustrophobic. Even at eighty years old, he'd refused to leave his cabin. Jesse had said goodbye to him here. His thick hickory bow remained propped against the doorjamb. She hefted it in her hands and tossed it to Logan.

Looking around at the extent of disrepair the cabin had fallen into she closed the box and held it to her chest.

"We should take these home." There were other things she wanted, but she knew there was time. Today it was enough to take the things she really treasured.

They left the cabin and Jesse circled around to the back. An aging oak tree towered over everything here. At its feet two unmarked gravestones rested. Jesse was lost to her memories now. She plucked some black-eyed Susan's from the brush and laid a few at the foot of each stone.

"My father went first," she said absently. "He couldn't win the battle against alcohol and daily living. Charlie Ray went downhill so fast after that. I had him here for two more summers, but then he said goodbye. He told me it was better in the spirit world and not to cry for him, that soon he would be another star in the heavens watching over me. I miss him."

She turned her attention to the granite crosses, speaking soft words whose meaning she didn't remember. Long-syllabled Iroquois words that hurt more as time went on and they became more and more unfamiliar on her lips.

Logan's hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present. She'd watered the black-eyed flowers with her tears and now it was time to go. Without looking back, she led the way to Logan's motorcycle.

"He always called me Bright One. 'Brighter Than A Thousand Suns.' Sounds like something a grandfather would call his grand baby, huh?"

The ride back to Cedar Ridge was quiet. As quiet as one could be on an aging Harley. Jesse was just thankful she could lay her head on Logan's shoulder and let the wind snatch away her tears. When they got back inside, she went to the kitchen to busy herself with fixing dinner. Her heart had wanted to show Logan the one place she called home, but now that heart hurt and she wasn't quite sure if she had been ready.

Logan found a place of prominence in his room for the wolverine carving, then leaned around the kitchen wall, announcing his plans to clean up before they ate. Jesse acknowledged him without looking up from the stove.

"You alright?" he asked her.

She nodded, then turned toward him with a fake smile.

"I can smell it when you lie, ya know."

She picked up a hand towel and threw it his way. He caught it in the air and tossed it back, then turned and disappeared down the hallway. Jesse smiled, listening as he whistled something off-key. When she heard the shower start, she picked up her grandfather's box and took it to her room. She wanted to talk to Charlie Ray, to allow his wisdom to guide her like it had when she was young. But she wasn't so young anymore. He wasn't there to take her by the hand and show her which plant she could use to create a healing ointment to sooth her soul. He couldn't sing her a song to make everything better.

"You sure you're ok?"

She looked up from the edge of her bed to see Logan in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He took the unlit cigar out of his mouth while Jesse stared. She'd never seen a man's body as perfect as his. His dark hair was still damp and tousled. He'd tamed down the hair that grew along his jaw line, but even trimmed the dark whiskers practically begged her to touch. The most she could do without giving herself away was follow the trail of a drop of water as it slid down his neck, over his collar bone and onto his chest, which she decided then and there had to be a work of art. She'd tried hard to hide her feelings from him to this point, but now she felt like nothing but a huge ball of emotion. She set down the box she'd been holding and stood to her feet, daring to look him in the eye, even though she knew that once their eyes connected he'd know how much she wanted him.

"Hold on, Princess," he protested, covering the hand she brought up to his cheek. "You know we can't go back from this." Her other hand had gone unbidden to his chest as she turned her face toward him.

"I don't want to go back from this," she managed. Then his mouth was on hers and she realized it had been just as hard for him to keep his distance as it had been for her. He kissed her almost brutally, cupping her face in his hands like a prospector who'd finally found a nugget of gold. She shivered at the intensity of feeling his lips on her skin, wanting more but resisting the urge to rush things. But then he slid his hands down her back and underneath her shirt and she knew she was gone. His calloused fingers smoothed across her skin, hard muscles pressing against her, and all she could do was close her eyes and feel. She heard him whisper words of endearment into her ear as he undressed her, saw her own hands reach for the towel at his waist. She reveled in the warmth that rose inside her as he hovered over her, kissing her neck and shoulders. She sensed his need to slow things down, to be sure she wasn't reaching out to him to ease her grief. Her eyes held nothing but desire for him, a fiery need that echoed his own.

Time was lost, as was everything else, as they connected, bodies calling each other and answering the call. He told her she was beautiful as his passion mounted, she breathed into his ear about how good he made her feel, how badly she had wanted him and for how long. She wasn't sure he heard any of it but it didn't matter, Jesse gave herself to Logan, holding nothing back. She used everything she had to communicate her feelings for him. Seeing the graves of her fathers had been a stark reminder that life was short. That love and joy needed to be embraced when they happened along, for there was no guarantee how long they'd stay.

Logan answered her body's call for him with passion and tenderness. To have found her in this ocean of trying to piece his life together was a gift he didn't take lightly. He sensed her need to connect to him, to somehow be the answer to all the turmoil that had been his life before they met. That desire became precious to him as their bodies melded together. She became his as their hearts bonded in a tangle of arms and legs. Later, they lay together breathing, touching and kissing, till heartbeats slowed to normal. Jesse snuggled against the firmness of his chest.

"That was amazing," he breathed. Jesse sighed and tightened her grip on him, wiggling her body in close. She traced her fingertips across the muscles of his arm, then up his neck to the wiry hair that grew on his cheek. Logan raised her face to his so he could kiss her temple. His body relaxed against hers and within minutes he was asleep. Jesse allowed herself to bask in the peace and warmth that surrounded them for a little while longer. No one had ever touched her the way he had, like she was the last possible piece of floating debris that could save him in the middle of shipwreck. Even as he slept he pulled her to him, and once again she wondered about his past. What kind of brutality had he been exposed to, that only intimate human touch could heal? She brought his hand to her face and kissed his knuckles, sighing.

"Go to sleep," he whispered into her hair.


	4. Chapter Four

An alarm went off in Logan's bedroom early the next morning. Jesse tried to slide out of bed to turn it off, but Logan pulled her back.

"It'll shut off in a minute." There was no way he was going to rush to start a cold day full of work and reality, not when he was surrounded by such luxurious and long-needed warmth.

Jesse turned to him as he propped himself up on one elbow.

"Sleep good?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Good."

She reached for his hand and their fingers intertwined. Suddenly a thought occurred to her.

"Whatever happened to those blades you had that night?" she asked him. "When you took down those thugs for me, remember? I haven't seen them since then."

Logan responded, "Come here." He had her roll over so she was facing away from him, then crossed his arms in front, rolling over on his back and pinning her to his chest.

"Trust me?" he breathed into her ear.

Jesse nodded, pressing herself closer. It seemed odd that he would ask her that now, but his question became justified as she watched three shining blades emerge slowly from the knuckles on both of his hands. Her gasp of surprise was felt by both of them. She tried to move into position to better examine them, but his grip on her tightened. She realized then why he'd pulled her close, as she felt the cool metallic breeze on her cheek. He retracted the blades carefully, with a loud scraping sound, then let her go. She turned to face him, grabbing his fist and bringing it close to her face.

"Where'd they go?" Her fingers probed down the length of his forearm and found her answer. Whatever hid beneath his skin was hard and unyielding. When she examined his fist, looking for the holes those blades should have left behind, she found what amounted to nothing more than scratches that disappeared even as she watched. There should have been cuts, or blood, not just skin. She sat up against the pillows.

"I don't understand."

"That makes two of us," he muttered. He was pleased that she hadn't freaked out on him, the way he had when he first discovered the blades. He sat up and dropped his feet over the side of the bed.

"Do they hurt?"

He stood to his feet and turned toward her, shaking his head. "Not enough for you to worry about." Then he pulled her across the bed and hugged her to his chest.

"You're the first person who's asked me that," he added, bending down to plant a kiss on her head. "I think."

He let her go and she slid off the bed, eyes still huge with wonder. The revelation of those claw-like blades was a lot to take in. He could see her concern as she struggled with their mystery. He knew telling her not to worry about it wouldn't work, so he chose to take her mind in a different direction.

"Who's takin' first shower?"

Jesse answered him with one raised eyebrow. She knew a challenge when she heard one.

"Whoever gets there first."

She darted out of the bedroom but he caught her in the hallway. She shrieked in delight when he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her the rest of the way.

* * *

><p>Somehow, both of them managed to get to work on time. Logan let Jesse off his motorcycle in front of Tony's Diner just as the older man was unlocking the door.<p>

"Looks like somebody's taken their relationship to the next level," Daniel observed as he watched Jesse lean down to kiss Logan goodbye. Tony snorted, trying to hush up the dishwasher, but Daniel wasn't happy about being ignored.

Jesse pushed thru the glass doors with a breezy "Good Morning!" Tony planted a kiss on her cheek and Daniel turned back to the kitchen, annoyed.

"What's up with Homeboy?" she questioned. Tony shrugged and shook his head.

"Not enough money in his pocket for weed," Tony snickered, making his way toward the kitchen. Stopping midway, he turned back to her.

"Could be he's jealous of your friend," He stroked the white hair on his chin. "Daniel and I have had you to ourselves for a long time."

Jesse looked up from pulling her braid thru the back of her cap. She gave him a funny look and shook her head.

"Guess you know what you're doin, Jess?" he patted her shoulder. She could tell from the look in his eye he wanted to hear some reassurance from her, but just then a party of three came in for breakfast and the day had begun.

Customers trickled into the diner at a steady pace all day. Between sending orders to the kitchen, then serving them, Jesse had no time to let her mind wander. Daniel was unhelpful, and Tony was swamped. When the lunch crowd subsided around 2:30, he finally took a break and joined Jesse in the dining room. Propping his elbows on the front counter, he let his head sink for a minute. Then he peered up at his waitress.

"I'm hiring some help for the dinner crowd," he told her. "That way you won't have to be here all day."

Jesse's eyes got wide and her hands flew to her hips. "I can handle it."

"I know that," Tony's eyes twinkled. "But you need a life too. You been doin most of the work out here for a long time. What would your daddy think if he knew I was over-workin' ya?"

She shrugged and turned from him, not sure what to say. Another hand in the diner would be welcomed. But part of her felt as though she wouldn't be needed anymore. It was true that business had picked up since the weather had warmed. Several groups had taken a liking to the area for Iroquois meet-ups and powwows. This had brought tourists, which in turn had even sprouted an 'Indian Artifact' shop. To Jesse is was nothing but a flea market that specialized in cheap plastic reproductions of things that were sacred.

"I figure you can come in and do breakfast and lunch," Tony intruded on her thoughts. "And then Sylvia can help us clear out lunch and do dinner. That way you'll have more time with your friend."

Jesse turned on him. "Is that what this is about? Me and Logan?" It surprised her that he'd use her finding happiness as an excuse to bring in new help.

"Nope, nope," Tony assured her. "It's about you having a life that's outside of this diner. It's about me promising your daddy I'd watch out for you. And maybe it's an excuse to have Sylvia around here more."

"That's what it is alright," Daniel chimed in. He came thru the kitchen doors to the dining area and started bussing a nearby table. "Tony's got a girlfriend, Jesse's got a boyfriend. What about Daniel? How can y'all just leave a brother behind like this? When do I get a helper?"

Tony threw up his hands and headed toward the kitchen, muttering something about 'crazy kids.'

"Who's Sylvia?" Jesse asked Daniel.

"Who's Logan?" he returned. She grinned at his joke, but her smile faded when she noticed he was completely serious.

"Come on Jesse," he prodded. "Who IS Logan? Can you tell me? Some of the elders are beginning to wonder. There was talk at the last council meeting… They wanna know what's up with him. And you."

Jesse frowned at him, "What are you talking about?"

"He's hiding something. Something big. Everybody around here knows it. You really believe he just shows up from nowhere, a guy like that? Come on Jesse, think." She could tell by the way he busied himself that he was angry, but for the life of her, she couldn't understand why.

"Logan is a good man," she challenged. "What's he done to anyone on that 'council'? Why would they be worrying about us anyway?"

Daniel got closer, speaking low enough so Tony wouldn't hear.

"He's a mutant, Jesse. Do you know they had to stop a sparring match at the gym between him and Max Hallman? 375 pound, muscle-bound Hallman? Or that they had to rig up a special heavy weight bag cuz he keeps punching the other one out of the ceiling? He's not like us, Jesse. That's why the elders are talking. Cuz they know you don't see it. Hell, they wonder about what's happened to you too."

"Me? What's happened to me?" She followed him between two tables to a booth close to the front door. "Since when did those people give a flip about me?"

"You're not the same anymore Jesse," he protested. "What would old Charlie Ray think about you right now? You are his last remaining family and it doesn't seem to matter. He was the last of the Mountain Mohawks. The one who wouldn't come down. He poured everything he knew into you but you refuse to share it. You keep it all bottled up in your house like a treasure, but we need it. The people need to remember. They want to learn how it was in Charlie's day. Your loser dad never wanted to know it Jess, but you did. And he taught you everything. But instead of passing it on to our people you take somebody like that to his cabin?" He raised his hands frustration.

"I'm done."

Picking up the bin he had loaded with glassware he pushed past her, leaving her alone to absorb the hot sting of his words. Anger began to build inside her. He had no right to talk to her this way.

"First of all," she followed him, used both hands to push thru the swinging kitchen doors. There was no way a snot-nosed dishwasher was going tell her how to live. Even Tony ducked and disappeared when he saw her coming, eyes flashing in anger.

"Nobody gave a shit about Charlie Ray when he was alive. He went to those mountains and lived what it meant to be Mohawk. Did he have any company? Did he? Did any of those men who think they can call themselves 'Elders' now ever sit at his feet? He would have loved to have had someone to talk to, someone to teach. Why do they think I never wanted to live with my dad? Charlie Ray was the real deal, alright," she nodded. "But not one of the people who think they can judge me was ever interested in what he had to say. Not even his son." She was shaking now, and hot tears threatened to escape from underneath her eyelids. She wiped at them impatiently and leaned closer to Daniel.

"As for Logan, I know he's a good man. He could have killed those punks that came after me, but he didn't. He could probably kill Max Hallman, or you, or me too. I don't know where he came from but it's not our place to judge. Not the 'people' who pride ourselves on being open minded and accepting. The same people who were treated exactly the way you want to treat him now. And that treatment wiped us out. I'm sorry I never passed on the things my grandfather taught me to you, because if I had we wouldn't be having this conversation. You'd know the meaning of compassion. And brotherhood. And humankind." She stood there with nothing more to say. A great sadness engulfed her and she turned back toward the dining room. She was pushing out the doors as an older woman in a Tony's Diner apron pushed in. Jesse let her pass without comment. Of course she knew that Logan was a mutant. His super-human strength and the feral senses that she tried her best to out-do had been revealed to her long ago. But that didn't mean she perceived him as different. Or as someone to fear. She sat on the edge of the diner's front porch, pondering the parallels between her people and Logan's. She could only hope that a people who had also been persecuted for being different would continue to make room for him here. She stared off into the distance where the mountains stood, shrouded in fog. Her grandfather's mountains. They were calling her, and she knew that wasn't good.

After a few minutes of solitude, Tony approached her. She loved him for giving her some space. She stood up and brushed off her apron, readying herself mentally to get back to work.

"Come and meet Sylvie," he said, patting her arm. "And forget about Daniel. I may not be Indian like the two of you but I do remember something Charlie Ray used to always say to me and your father. 'Every little thing is gonna be alright'."


	5. Chapter Five

Finally home after a very emotional day, Jesse piled up on the couch in her pajamas. Logan sat down beside her, pulling off his boots. It had been a long day for both of them. She grinned as he made a big deal out of getting comfy, stretching out and laying his head in her lap. He grazed her cheek with the back of his hand, which she caught, lacing her fingers thru his.

"Tell me your grandfather's dream about the wolverine."

Jesse sighed. "Everybody's talking about Charlie Ray today." The truth was that Daniel's accusations still rang in her ears, especially the part about her hoarding her grandfather's knowledge. Maybe he had been right about that. Maybe she'd kept his teachings to herself because it made her feel special. She had always been proud that her grandfather had chosen her, but Daniel had made her sound snobby and self-righteous. She knew part of the reason she had never shared Charlie Ray's wisdom was because no one had asked. But now someone was asking. Maybe it was time for her to be the teacher. Sharing the dream with Logan was a start.

"Charlie said the wolverine came to him in a dream," she started. "In his sweat lodge. He took my dad with him, but couldn't get him interested. I guess there was no beer involved."

"He stayed in the lodge, sad that my father had left. He fell asleep and dreamed he was trying to feed a child that was his son. The boy kept spitting out the food but a younger child, a girl, would crawl over and eat it up. Three times this happened. The boy spit out the food but the baby ate it up. Then the boy got angry, picked up the girl, and took her away to the sky. Charlie followed them but was stopped by a river he couldn't cross. He saw the boy drop the girl but couldn't get close enough catch her. He cried for help but no one would come. He asked crane to fly him across the river, but crane told him he was too heavy. He asked beaver to float him over, but beaver swam away. All the time the baby girl was falling. Grandfather called out to the forest once again, even begging the trees to help him, but their arms would not reach. Finally, wolverine, angry that his peace was being shattered, came out of his hole, thinking if he killed the man the woods would be quiet again. My grandfather pointed to the baby, and promised not to say another word if wolverine would help him."

"So he did, right?" Logan interrupted. "The wolverine I mean."

Jesse smiled, remembering how she felt as a little girl when her grandfather repeated this story to her. She slid her fingertips across the places on his knuckles where his metal claws had appeared, and the meaning of the dream took on greater significance. Closing her eyes, she picked up where she left off, voice soft and hypnotizing.

"Wolverine is strong and brave. The other forest dwellers always underestimate him. He's quick and clever but sometimes bad-tempered. With his claws, he killed beaver, who wouldn't swim my grandfather over the river. Then he killed crane, who said he was too heavy. Grandfather was so afraid he would kill the baby too that he tried to rush into the water, but the water pushed him back. He could only sit on the bank and watch as wolverine reached the other side and raised his arms to the sky. But then the whole forest saw what would happen. The baby would land on his claws and be killed. The smaller ones like chipmunk and squirrel began to cry. The birds took to the sky, but they were too small to help. Grandfather hid his face, for he didn't want to see the death of his granddaughter. When he dared to look up, the whole forest was quiet. The baby was on wolverine's soft tummy, where she had landed. At the last minute, wolverine had a change of heart and turned, so his body could cushioned her fall. He swam her across the river, delivered her to my grandfather, shook the water off his fur and went back to his hole. Grandfather asked what he could do to thank him, but wolverine only told him to remember his promise. So my grandfather took the baby home, and never saw the wolverine again."

"Till he showed up on the back steps of Tony's Diner," Logan finished. A quietness settled over each of them as they pondered their own thoughts about Charlie Ray's dream.

Winter came early to the mountains that year. Jesse bought a used clunker truck and Logan stored away his motorcycle. Sylvia learned the rhythms of Tony's Diner, freeing up more time for Jesse to spend with Logan. Tony's girlfriend had waited tables before, and was a pretty good cook. She added several items to the menu and took a load off everybody's shoulders. Jesse warmed to the older woman and the way they learned to work as a team.

Spring brought with it a yearning for the cabin. Logan had started quizzing her about the sweat lodge ritual soon after he heard the story of Charlie's dream. He wanted to recreate it, reasoning that it might open a doorway to his memories. Jesse didn't know if it would work, but couldn't deny his enthusiasm.

"It's a warrior's ritual," she told him, one day in March. It was one of those days that felt more like summer than spring. Jesse was trying to explain why once the sweat lodge was set up, he'd be on his own. "Mohawk women didn't participate in warrior rituals. We had other things to do."

"Warrior, huh?" he grinned, raising his arms over head and flexing thick muscles. She laughed and tossed a pinecone toward him. She missed, but he lunged for her anyway, pulling her down to the ground. Both of them were sweaty from working to clear out a place for the lodge. Jesse filled her senses with the way he looked, smelled, and felt against her skin. Even tangled in brush and dead leaves she wanted him, one sniff in the air and she knew that he knew it too.

"I think you forget that I've seen you in action," he said, kissing the side of her neck. "You're more warrior than you think you are." Her eyes danced in excitement as she heard the familiar snikt of metal scraping metal.

"Logan, I need this shirt," she protested, attempting to half-heartedly wiggle out from under him. "It's Springsteen. Please…" His eyes narrowed, three blades inches from her face. She shrieked with laughter at the look he gave her, redoubling her efforts to escape and perhaps save her shirt.

"I'll give you Springsteen," he threatened, plucking her collar.

"No, Baby, please," she begged. She felt a whisper of tension in the fabric.

"Logan…" she murmured, even though she knew the battle was lost. His mouth came down on hers and her t-shirt gave way like melted butter. It only took a second for her to decide she'd enjoy the kisses he trailed down her neck and between her breasts a lot more than she'd miss her Springsteen t-shirt.

Logan was more merciful to her blue jeans, giving her time to wiggle out of them, intact. The sun blazed down as she undressed her warrior, heating up a primal desire. There was no room here for anything but wide-open passion. This was her place, her time, her lover. She was safe in his arms, secure under a canopy of dancing green and brilliant blue. Bodies intertwined in a heated embrace Jesse knew would never happen just like this again. Wind and sky, sun and trees bore witness as she threw open the door to her soul and let Logan in. His willingness to give whatever she demanded fueled her. Her braid had long since come undone, strands of inky hair stuck to the dampness along her neck. Her black eyes blazed with the fire of her ancestors, as she turned her face to the sky, acknowledging the gift of this warrior. Bodies melded together as Logan pulled her to him. Her sweat fell onto his chest, mingling with his own. She could sense the oncoming rush of a freight train in his blood and felt the primal power her body held over her man. Then everything else fell away as they lost themselves to each other.

She clung to him, chest heaving, purring as he wrapped himself around her, shielding her from everything outside. She'd taken him. Made him her man, her warrior, and as such, once again he accepted the roll of her protector. He kissed her shoulder as his breathing slowed. She loosened her grip so she could lean back and look into his soul. The feral child still danced in her eyes as he kissed her, and as his mouth slid down to the hollow of her throat she whispered, "I think we touched the sky."

Neither of them wanted to leave the woods that day. Work on the lodge was forgotten as they washed in the creek and dried off in the sun. As dusk came, they built a fire and sat side by side enjoying its flame, pledging they wouldn't come back without the gear to spend the night if they chose. The moon had risen high in the sky when Logan finally stood to his feet, turning to offer a hand to Jesse. She clasped his arm and pulled herself up, surprised when he pulled her into his embrace.

"I love you," he told her.

She grinned and kissed his scruffy cheek. "I know."

His eyebrow arched as he waited for her to return the sentiment.

"I love you too," she answered, finally letting him off her hook. "I have for a very long time."

"You callin' me a slow learner?" he quipped, grabbing her hand as they made their way to the truck.

"I would never say that," she protested, leaning her back against its metal as he opened her door.

"I know you'll get there eventually." She climbed in and he slammed the door, trying to convince her she'd hurt his feelings. She caught the twitch at the corners of his mouth as he tried to hide a smile.

"Maybe I should take it back then," he threatened, grabbing the remains of a thick cigar from the ashtray.

"Maybe I don't -"

"Noooo!" Jesse bounced across the seat, pressing her fingers against his mouth. "Don't say that. Don't ever, ever say that."

He grinned, clenching the cigar between his teeth. Both of them knew he would never have finished the sentence.

"Whatever you say, Princess."

"Now that I could get used to hearing." She snuggled up close and tucked herself under his arm as he put the truck in gear, easing them on their way back to civilization.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Daniel approached Jesse as the last of Tony's breakfast crowd was leaving the diner.<p>

"Hey," she, replied, looking up from clearing off a cluttered table.

"Word is you and Logan are building a sweat lodge. How come?"

"Logan's hoping it might help him remember who he is," she answered. "He needs his memories. It might be worth a shot."

"What if he remembers he's a car salesman with a wife and two kids in Chicago?"

Jesse laughed at the thought of Logan, with his wild man looks, gruff demeanor and stinky cigar, trying to convince someone to buy a Chevy. She raised an eyebrow at Daniel.

He shrugged, grinning in agreement. "Yeah I guess that was stupid, but really. Aren't you afraid you could lose him?"

"I can't lose something that's not mine," she said, but her heart warmed just thinking about him. "Logan should have every chance to his memory back. I love him. If he needs to go back to a wife and kids in Chicago, I'd have to let him go. All of us have to trust our own life path."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Dude, shoulda known you'd go all Indian Princess on me. Anyway, I got something you need to take with you." He pulled a plastic baggie out of his pocket.

"I'm not gonna ask you guys to let me go with you this time, cuz you obviously got some kinky thing goin on, but take this. It'll make things better. And next time Logan decides to try to be Mohawk, he's gotta promise he's takin me with."

Jesse eyed the bag, confused. "What is it?"

Daniel sighed. "Grandfather never give you the scoop on the Vision Quest? Come on Jess, what do you think they used to 'open their minds'?"

Realization dawned on her as she reached for the bag. She tried to bring it up close but Daniel rolled his eyes again and grabbed her hand.

"You gonna let the whole world see that?"

"But what is it?" she asked him again.

The dishwasher laughed out loud at the thought that he knew a little more on a native subject than she did.

"Sage, pot, peyote, some sweet grass," he told her. "I had a friend fix it up for me. Son of Michael Gray Bear, the councilman. Sprinkle some on the fire when it gets low, and add some to the rocks before you pour the water. You mean to tell me you didn't know this?"

"I didn't know there were drugs…"

Daniel laughed again and patted her shoulder. Leaning in close, he murmured in her ear.

"There were drugs."

He left her in the dining room holding the baggie, turning back toward the kitchen, still laughing.

Jesse stood rooted to the spot, feeling the texture of the herbs in her hand. Charlie Ray had definitely never mentioned anything about mind-altering substances. He'd always taught her that nature was just what surrounded them. Some of what grew from the earth was good and some was to be avoided. She felt stupid standing there, holding dried plants that she should have at least guessed were part of his traditions.

"What's got you, Pocahontas?" Logan had managed to enter the diner without her even noticing, so great was her concentration. He bent to kiss her cheek, reaching around to untie her apron strings. They were packed and ready to head to the cabin as soon as work was over. His boss at the hardware store had let him leave early, as soon as all his projects were done for the day. He'd already called to ask for the same grace for his girlfriend. They had four days to spend together. Logan was eager to head out of town.

"Umm… hey," she greeted him, turning to look thru the pass thru window at Daniel. He gave her an encouraging 'thumbs up' then waved her outside. Jesse allowed Logan to grab her hand and lead her across the dining room floor.

"But… Tony," she protested. "I need to make sure it's ok."

"It's ok, I already talked to him, come on. You still wanna do this? Right?"

"Yes," she answered, turning to give him her full attention. Suddenly Daniel's fears about kids in Chicago echoed in her mind. Earlier statements about the sacredness of each individual life path seemed pompous and lofty.

"Come on then," he tugged at the truck's passenger door so she could get in.

"You won't, will you?" she said vaguely to no one.

"Won't what?"

Jesse shook herself, changing the direction of the conversation by pulling the baggie from her pocket.

"This is from Daniel," she said, dropping it into Logan's hand. "I guess he knows more about certain things than I do."

Logan opened the bag's zip lock closure and sniffed its content, whistling when he figured out what he held in his hand.

"Better hope we don't get pulled over," he joked. "Can you imagine us trying to explain this to Greyhawk?"

She tried to grin but only managed an odd little half-smile. Suddenly her life path was feeling a little more like a roller coaster ride than she'd anticipated.


	6. Chapter Six

"So now we just sit here?" Logan asked, as they made themselves as comfortable as possible in a cramped hovel made of branches and brush. They had a supply of water and wood and a fire encircled by rocks. Jesse had centered an old iron pot over the flames and placed several smooth stones in its depths. When the pot got hot enough to glow, she'd add water, and a handful of Daniel's spices, causing billows of steam to fill the hut.

"We should say something, pray to the Great Spirit, to the spirits of fire and smoke. We need to let them all in on the fact that we're here for a reason. To open ourselves to a new level of wisdom we need for our lives. We offer our smoke to the four corners… North, South, East and West. And thank them for taking it and our sweat and replacing them with understanding."

"You say the prayer," Logan responded. "If there's Anything up there I'm pretty sure He stopped hearin' me a while back."

Jesse's hands went to her hips. "You have to believe, Logan. Give me the pipe." She crouched with her grandfather's pipe at the edge of the fire, filling it with tobacco and a dash of the mixture Daniel had sent. Taking a branch from the fire, she held it to the bowl and began to pull on the pipe.

"Smoke much?" Logan grinned as he watched her turn green. Coughing and sputtering, she handed him the pipe.

"Raise it to the sky," she managed. "And then to each end of the earth. I'll say a prayer to the Great Spirit." Logan stood to his feet, sweat already beginning to glisten on his chest. He puffed gently on the old wooden pipe in his hands. Smoke swirled around him as Jesse started to chant.

"Hear us, Great Warrior Spirit," she sent her words up thru the tiny hole they'd left in the brush-covered ceiling. "We come to seek Your knowledge and favor. Listen spirits of wood and smoke as we surrender to your teaching. We are open, we are waiting. Show us the way."

Logan passed the pipe to her and she accepted, filling her lungs with the fragrant smoke. She did much better this time, releasing it back into the air without coughing. She handed it back and took a handful of the spiked sweet grass. Holding it up to the sky, she continued.

"Be pleased with our smoke, with our sacrifice. Today we forsake everything but You. Smell the sweet fragrance we offer. Let it open the door between our world and yours. Be pleased with the warrior who comes to You. He seeks to remember his past, to resolve who he was with who he now is. Show us our purpose, Show us our path. We shall be forever grateful and promise to do everything within us to follow the path you reveal."

She threw the herbs into the bottom of the pot, saving some to add to the flames. Then she grasped the handle of a large earthen pitcher and poured cold water into the depths of the cauldron. It began to boil and steam on contact with the heat. As the steam filled the tiny space, she took her place beside Logan.

"Amen," he said softly, handing her the pipe again. His eyes looked a little glassy as he settled himself on the bed of brush and branches they had made. They passed the pipe between them, each getting lost in their own thoughts and reasons for starting this quest. Then eyelids got droopy, the pipe passed more slowly. Jesse shifted every now and then to add more wood to the fire, or water to the stone. Logan had gone to a place she couldn't follow, so she contented herself with finding a place of her own. From a distance, she could hear him speak words that had no meaning to her. Words like 'Stryker', 'Victor', 'Father', and 'war.' She wanted to comfort him but didn't dare interrupt, and soon she was lost in the shadow lands.

* * *

><p>In her dream, she was walking in the woods, alone. Every color seemed more vibrant, every sound more musical. The water in the creek was softly singing, the birds called to her, full of joy. The sun smiled down on her kindly, and Jesse knew she'd never want to leave. But then the birds hushed, taking to the sky. The creek began to sound angry that something had dared to disturb it. Clouds covered the sun and Jesse was afraid. Something was behind her, and it was hunting. She knew without being told that she was its prey. She couldn't see what was stalking her but she sensed it was something big.<p>

"Don't forget us," the trees whispered. "Don't forget." Even the ground beneath her feet and the bushes close at hand took up the cry. She began to run, feeling benevolent earth spirits make her path straight and true. But as she continued, the ground got harder, the wind got colder and the rocks rose up to cause her to stumble. She finally threw a look over her shoulder and saw a big cat casually sniffing her trail. He was in no rush because he knew he had her right where he wanted. She'd never seen an animal like him before. Long hair, long claws and terrible looking fangs that protruded from his snarling mouth. He was a tiger, a lion, and something more. Jesse stood rooted to the spot, knowing she was unable to shake him. He was a much greater warrior than she, arrogant, strong and fast. He was coming for her alright, but like all cats, he took pleasure in toying with his food. She turned from him and began running, calling out Logan's name. The sound of her voice broke into her dream state. She opened her eyes to find herself alone. No fire, no smoke, no Logan.

Crawling thru the opening at the base of the lodge, she sat for a moment, trying to clear her head. Memories of the dream were rapidly fading, leaving only the helpless sense of being hunted.

"Why couldn't I just have the dream where the wolverine catches the baby?" she wondered out loud.

Rising to her feet was an effort. It felt like her head would explode. But her body was chilled and the hoodie she'd left on the seat of the truck was calling her name. She forced herself to move forward. Her clothes were damp and she knew she stank to heaven, and where the hell was Logan?

"This is why smart people don't use drugs."

She'd turned up a bottle of water and was draining it when she heard him. Or heard something that had to be him, the sound was like nothing the forest had ever produced. During her years at her grandfather's cabin, she'd heard cougar screams that had lifted the hairs on her neck, heard entire packs of wolves howl and angry, injured bears roar. This was all of those, combined. The bottle dropped from her fingers as she headed toward the sound.

"Logan!" she shouted, crashing headlong into the brush. Panic rose as a vile taste in her mouth. The roar came again, so she altered her course, coming upon a scene that stopped her heart so totally her whole body slid to the ground. The bear's roar of pain and anger were real. An eight-foot grizzly towered over Logan, shaking his huge, ugly head. Another sound took a minute to register, but she thought she heard Logan urging him on. She clamped a hand over her mouth and watched in horror as the bear swiped Logan, knocking him into the air. He crashed against the side of a boulder and was still, blood seeping momentarily across his chest. Tears leaked from Jesse's eyes as the bear advanced, cold fear rooting her to the spot. A cry escaped her and she tried to back pedal deeper into the woods as Logan rose to his feet, returning the bear's roar with one of his own. Jesse heard the familiar sound of metal claws erupting. Scrambling to her feet, she clutched a nearby sapling, little cries of terror escaping from behind the hands that covered her mouth. The forest exploded as Logan unleashed his anger on the animal. He was ranting words she couldn't understand, slinging his arms, daring the bear to engage him. When it lunged forward so did he. The bear screamed in agony as metal claws sliced easily into his hide. Logan roared one last time as the animal was lifted off its feet. Then it sank to its haunches, gutted. Blood and gore spattered Logan as he slashed and stabbed, continuing his attack long after the life had left its body. Behind him, Jesse dropped to her knees, sobbing. She doubled over to hide the sight from her eyes, cursing herself for ever letting Logan talk her into a vision quest. She knew he'd gone into the forest looking for trouble, angered at things he had seen. Now a bear was dead and her lover turned to something she didn't recognize, and it was all her fault.

When she dared to look up, she saw Logan still hunched in front of the huge bear's carcass. Rising to her feet, she approached. Dusk was coming on and the need to move had become urgent inside her. She tried to keep from looking at the bloody mass that had once been a mighty creature of the forest, but its stench rose in her nostrils. Dry heaves mercilessly wracked her body.

"Logan?" she ventured, trembling. She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, worried at the vacant look in his eye. He shifted position. Jesse heard the sound of scraping metal, felt the cold breeze as scalpel sharp claws barely missed her cheek. She fell back, unable to believe her eyes. She'd known better than to do what she'd done, but it never occurred that Logan would lash out at her. A gasp escaped as she reached up to touch her face and trembling fingertips came away bloody. Three red lines bloomed beneath her cheekbone and soon blood was coursing down her face. She stared as it began to pool on her blue jeans, unable to move.

"You cut me," she whispered, still in a state of shock. Logan's gaze was blank and staring. He didn't acknowledge her presence.

"Shit, Logan," she yelled at him. "You cut me!" She pressed her sleeve against the wound to slow the bleeding and carefully stood to her feet. Dizziness and panic tried their best to descend on her at the same time. How could there be blood when she hadn't even felt the blades touch her skin? How long would she be able to stand without blacking out from blood loss? And just how long would it take for her bleed to death?

"Stop it!" she struggled to get hold of herself. "Don't act so helpless. Assess the situation. Take the steps needed to get things back in order. This is not the time to panic. Every little thing…" A tear slipped down her cheek as she tried to encourage herself that they were going to be alright.

Turning her attention back to Logan, she placed herself at least ten feet in front of him, once again hollering his name.

"We need to get out of here, Logan," she repeated. "Let's go."

He turned his face toward her and her heart broke again. The blank stare cleared for a moment and his eyes narrowed.

"We gotta go," she repeated, stretching her arm toward him. She motioned with her fingers. "Come on."

"You're bleeding."

Jesse held back the insane cry that tried to escape her lips. "Let's just get back to the truck, ok?" she said. He still wasn't himself and she needed every step of forward motion she could get from him.

"Get in," she ordered, once they got back to the truck. He complied and she slammed the door shut, quickly rounding the front of the vehicle to climb in the other side. Cranking the engine and throwing the truck in gear, she sped down the dirt road that led away from the cabin, one hand digging frantically in the glove box for her first aid kit. Logan sat slumped against the window, lost to her again. A coldness in the pit of her stomach grew as she realized they'd played with fire and gotten burned.

"We shoulda never done this," the words came hissing thru her teeth as she clamped them together against the pain radiating from her cheek. "We shoulda left well enough alone. There was a reason those memories were sealed off from you." The truck bounced as she hit an unseen rock in the road, and tears began to fall.

"I'm sorry, Logan," she told him. "But you need to come back to me. Whatever is going on in your head isn't real. THIS is real," she nearly shouted at him, dropping the hand that had been putting pressure on her wound so she could wrestle the steering wheel and keep the truck on the road. This was not a good time to have an accident. Not with a cheek almost sliced to the bone and a catatonic boyfriend.

The bouncing stopped when the truck finally hit the paved surface of the highway. Tires squealed as Jesse made a hard left and sped into the darkening night. They drove in silence for nearly two hours before coming to a roadside rest stop that was only occupied by one other car. Jesse got out of the truck and rummaged around in the back, trying to keep an eye on Logan and find him some clean clothes at the same time.

"You gotta help me now," she told him, swinging wide his door. She tried not to think what would happen if he decided to use his claws again.

Logan stood to his feet and followed her up the sidewalk, then she led him toward the ladies room. He didn't comment as she pushed him into a stall and began pulling off his clothes. They were crusty with blood and gore and smelled bad enough to make her start gagging again. She was rinsing out a piece of sleeve she'd cut from his shirt and using it as a washcloth when two women burst in laughing. Their voices died when they saw blood in the sink and took one look at Jesse's face.

"What the - " the taller bleached blonde blurted.

"Hey - Are you ok?" asked the other one. Both took a step backward.

"I'm fine," Jesse said, but the women fled screeching when they heard Logan moan in the stall behind her.

"Shit," Jesse, muttered, pushing into Logan's stall. She knew she had to work fast now. She pulled a t-shirt over Logan's head, thankful when he took over and pushed his own arms thru the sleeves. He was just standing up to tie the waistband of the sweat pants she'd found when a pot-bellied Native American security guard burst into the bathroom.

"Everything alright in here?" he asked Jesse.

"Oh shoot. Gosh, you scared me," she tried to turn an over bright smile toward the guard but a shock of pain seared her face.

"Somebody said there was a guy in here," he stepped forward, "And a woman with blood all over her face."

"My boyfriend," Jesse offered. "He had a little too much to drink and got sick in the car. We've had a really bad night. I was just trying to clean him up…"

The guard stopped, eyes narrowed as he studied her face.

"What happened?" he asked. "He hurt you?" The guard leaned forward, peeking cautiously at Logan, who sat slumped over the toilet. The stench of his discarded clothes lent quite a bit of credibility to her story. When the guard had assessed that the man in the stall was no threat he turned his attention to Jesse.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked her again.

"No. No…" Jesse said examining the wound on her cheek in the brightly lit mirror.

"There was a stupid little fight at the bar we were in, some white chick went all crazy cuz her boyfriend asked me to dance. I don't know what she done to her fingernails." She gingerly wiped at the cuts till there were just three thin slivers of red, hoping he'd believe they were only scratches acquired in a catfight.

"See," she tried to give him a smile. "It's just a scratch. I promise we'll be out of your way in no time, and I'm really, really sorry if we scared anybody." She turned her attention back to the sink and rinsing out her make shift washcloth.

"You probl'y wanna get that looked at though," he advised. He studied her for a long time. "I can call 911."

Suddenly sounds of groaning and retching came from inside Logan's stall.

"Oh shit. He's gonna puke again and I just changed his shirt," Jesse tried as best she could to sound like a mindless, empty-headed party girl as she stepped into the stall.

"Come on, Baby," she stole a glance at Logan, who was staring openly at her. Then she poked her head out.

"Thank you again for checking on us," she told the guard, hoping he'd catch on that he as being dismissed. Thankfully, he took his cue and backed toward the door.

"You need any help I'm just right over there," he assured her, pointing to the rest stop office. "And I got the rescue squad on speed dial. It wouldn't be no trouble…"

"No really, we're fine," Jesse insisted. "And we are about to be on our way out of here." She silently prayed to God that the guard wouldn't ask if she needed help getting Logan loaded up. She didn't know what might happen if a stranger touched him now. Her prayer was answered when he turned toward the door.

"Alright then. Hope you have a better night." Adjusting the keys and flashlight that dangled from his belt, he disappeared. Jesse backed out of the stall, leaning against the counter in relief.

"This would be funny as hell if it wasn't so damn crazy," she muttered, turning again to examine her cheek. The three neatly parallel lines were beginning to seep and swell and they hurt like crazy. Jesse was sure her eye would be sealed shut by morning.

"White chick with fingernails, my ass."

She dug around in her backpack for some pain relievers and washed them down with a handful of water from the sink.

"Are you with me?" she questioned Logan, suddenly very, very tired. Babysitting this man was far too complicated. She feared to touch him or prod him along, but couldn't get through the overload in his thick skull to get him to communicate.

A sigh of relief escaped her when she saw him emerge from the stall, head down. She could still feel the tension flowing off him but didn't have time for the luxury of deep conversation. They climbed in the truck, turning north on the highway and leaving the rest stop behind.

"Where are we goin' ?" he asked quietly. Jesse didn't know. She was just going. She leaned forward to grip the steering wheel.

"North."

"Why can't we go home?"

"They're not expecting us home for 3 more days. I think we need some time before we go home."

"I hurt you."

It came out so flat and devoid of all emotion that Jesse turned her gaze toward him.

"My fault," she said quietly. "I knew better." Her mind drifted back to the first time she'd ever spoken to him, when she'd bent to touch his arm and he'd grabbed her.

"I hurt you."

"Everything heals, Logan. I'll be alright."

"You need a Doctor."

"No." Suddenly it felt as though she was arguing with a 4 year-old.

"It could need stitches."

"No! Logan, no. I am not getting stitches in my face. I'll look like the bride of Frankenstein. Besides, how would I explain this? It'll be alright. It's not very deep. I didn't even feel it."

"How did it happen?"

She turned her attention on him again, glad he was talking but disturbed by the tone of his voice. They so needed to find a place for the night.

"You were fighting a bear. Back at the cabin. Remember?"

"That was a dream."

"No," she sighed, craning her neck so she could read the huge green billboards they passed for some inspiration as to where they could sleep. When an ad for a state park loomed overhead she breathed a sigh of relief. A park would have cabins or a lodge or something. She began to follow the directions on the sign, heading up a twisting mountain road.

"The bear's name was Stryker," he said, as if that made all the difference in the world. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the window. Nothing more was said between them until she pulled in at the park office and went inside to see about renting a cabin.

"Be right back," she promised.

Logan didn't respond.


	7. Chapter Seven

Three hours, two showers and a bag of fast food burgers later, Jesse and Logan finally lay down to sleep. Jesse could sense the brokenness in the man beside her. She prayed his miraculous power to heal could reach his emotions as it did with his body. Her eyes began to droop as soon as her head hit the pillow. She'd been awake for close to 24 of the longest hours of her life.

Reaching out to let her fingers smooth over the wiry hair on his cheek she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "For what?"

"We shoulda left Pandora's box alone."

He closed his eyes and for one brief moment, the tension left his face. "You don't think that lid woulda blown off eventually? Maybe everything happened just like it was supposed to. Except for this." He brought a finger up to touch the wound on her face.

'Logan, what did you see?"

He opened his eyes and shook his head. There were no words to describe what he'd seen. The blood on his hands, the killing machine he'd been. And maybe always would be. How could he tell the woman he loved that he was more like her fierce, feral spirit animal than he was human?

The look in his eyes held something so profoundly sad that cold fear began snaking its way through Jesse's heart. Without being told, she knew where his thoughts were leading.

"You're not leaving, Logan?" She gave voice to her fear. Just forming the words and allowing them out of her mouth caused hot tears to prick her eyelids. "You can't protect me that way."

He sighed and rolled over on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm not gonna put you in danger again." The empty sound of his voice told Jesse his mind was made up.

"Logan, you listen to me," she sat up in bed. "Losing you would hurt more than a million scratches like this. These I can recover from. But if you walk away…"

"I can't even protect you from myself," he argued, suddenly angered. "Do you think _**I'd**_ recover if I took your head off next time?"

"There won't be a next time," she argued, wondering how long he'd been torturing himself with this thought.

"We are not doing a vision quest again. We're not gonna sit in a drug induced coma hoping for memories to come that were hidden for a reason. And one more thing. I've never tried to tie you down. You've always been free to stay or go. But don't try to justify leaving by saying it's for my own good. My life is mine and if I want to put it in danger, that's my choice. I'd rather die beside you than without you."

The tears she'd been holding back finally escaped. Now Logan wasn't the only one who was angry. She slid out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Once the door closed between them the thought of him leaving hit her like a kick in the gut. She sat on the floor, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them, giving in to her emotions. This wasn't something she did often. She'd been taught to trust the universe. To believe in balance and a higher power. That she really owned nothing and life was better left out of her control. But this was different. This was Logan. She let her heart bleed for a minute. There was so much more she wanted to say. But these things didn't need to be spoken in anger. A strong urge to beg him not to go rose up within her. But stubborn pride was stronger still.

Rising to her feet, she washed her face and blew her nose, getting a grip on herself before facing him again.

When she opened the bathroom door she saw the bed was empty. Logan stood silhouetted by moonlight streaming through the open front door. He stood with his back to her, one hand gripping the doorframe over his head, the other a smoldering cigar.

"Don't leave," she said, crossing the room and sliding her arms around him from behind. She pressed her uninjured cheek against his back, breathing when he did. Feeling his pulse against her skin. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to beg. His love was worth that much loss of pride, and suddenly holding on to anger didn't seem important.

He turned to her, eyes so tired and full of pain that Jesse had to reach up and press her palms to his face. She knew she could be the balm that soothed him. She wanted to wash his hurt away. It was her place as his woman.

"Looks like war paint," he whispered, gingerly kissing the cuts on her face. Jesse's arms tightened around him. He sounded more like himself than he had in several hours. She could only dare to hope that was a good sign.

* * *

><p>Opening her eyes to broad daylight startled Jesse wide-awake. She hadn't meant to sleep so long. Pushing the covers aside, she got up, only to realize Logan was gone. She called for him, padding across the cabin's bedroom to look out the windows. The back door was propped open, allowing a warm breeze into the room. When she looked out, she saw him sitting on top of a picnic table, beer in one hand, cigar dangling from another. She watched him for a minute, hand flying to her throat when she caught the moment he detected her scent on the wind. He turned to her, setting down the beer and holding out a hand. Smiling was out of the question, but she gladly climbed onto the table and nestled under his arm. They stayed there, silent, for a long time, both afraid to break the spell of being close. Everything seemed fragile now and Jesse wasn't about to say a word, for fear he'd tell her he'd be heading out soon. But the worry wore on her. She needed to know what he was thinking. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she finally worked up the courage to speak.<p>

"So what are we gonna do now?" she ventured. She'd meant to say 'you' instead of 'we,' but she couldn't separate from him in her mind.

He squeezed her shoulder and bent over to kiss her cheek. "We should probably get something to eat and then head over here, to the hospital. We need to get your face looked at. Bears are nasty. That could get infected. Much as I like the new look I'd hate for you to lose an eye."

She took a tourist flyer from him, turning it over to examine a map that had the nearest emergency room circled.

"Then I'd have one less eye to use to see how beautifully handsome you are," she said, risking raising the right side of her mouth into a grin. Relief flooded her with such intensity she was sure he'd be able to smell it.

Logan took a drag of his cigar, holding the smoke till he could pull her close. Then he pressed his lips against hers, prying them open to blow it into her mouth. This was a ritual of familiarity and possession, mostly used on animals, but Jesse understood its significance. Even though it made her eyes water she greedily inhaled his smoke, his breath, his being. Her fingers tightened their grip on his shirt as he left a trail of kisses down her neck.

'You make the difference, Princess," he breathed against her ear.

"What difference?" she asked, puzzled, but thankful his mood had changed. His grip on her tightened to the point she could barely breathe.

"The difference between me and the wolverine."

* * *

><p>"They cleaned everything out, super-glued me, gave me a shot in the ass and sent me back home."<p>

Jesse sat with Logan at a booth in Tony's diner, holding Tony, Sophie, Daniel and Daniel's new Navaho girlfriend Suzanna in rapt attention. They'd decided to say she'd been jumped by a cougar, blaming it for the cuts on her cheek. Jesse knew it didn't sit well with Logan to lay blame on an animal, then take credit for being a hero, but she'd assured him the whole story would die quickly and soon people would want to talk about something else. The details of the vision quest were not spoken of, and for once, she was glad of the tradition not to pry into these things.

"A cat like that could have done some major damage," Tony remarked as Jesse dropped her gaze.

"There wasn't time," Jesse answered, trying to smile against the tightness of the skin beneath her cheekbone. "Logan was there. It was really… barely a scratch." Under the table, she squeezed Logan's leg to remind him to stop growling under his breath.

"I need some more Coke," she changed the subject, rising to her feet and sliding out of the booth. She filled her glass and out of habit, turned back to see if anyone else needed a refill. The diner was empty and closed, but a newly acquired big screen TV winked softly in one corner. Jesse dropped her glass when a commercial came across the screen advertising a show about prehistoric creatures. There stood a cat much bigger than the one she was blaming for her injuries. It was the very cat that stalked her in her dream.

"What's wrong, Honey?" Sophie asked, appearing beside her with a towel. She bent to mop up what Jesse had spilled while the younger woman tried to regain her composure.

"Saber tooth," She whispered, still staring at the screen. "I knew it had a name."

"Saber tooth?" Logan repeated, puzzled by her reaction. He could smell the fear that rose up in her, and see it widen her eyes.

"They're extinct. Just like T-Rex and those Raptors. Nothin' to worry about. We'll never see one of those around here."

"Oh dear, you poor girl," Sophie reached around to hug her. "That cougar certainly did frighten you, didn't it?" Jesse took that explanation for her own and nodded, eyes still wide. The older woman patted her hand and then prodded them out the door, promising she'd clean up after their dinner.

"What was that about?" Logan asked as the diner's door closed behind them. A fresh breeze blew, whipping his hair into his face.

"It was in my dream," she said softly. "Hunting."

"Your dream at the cabin?"

Jesse nodded. "But they're extinct, right?"

Logan made a funny growling noise in the back of his throat, taking her hand and leading her down the steps. Jesse followed, content to let the subject drop. At the time of her dream she hadn't been able to place the creature's name. But now the word 'Saber tooth' was stamped forever in her thinking. Logic told her not to dwell on extinct creatures, but logic had no place in spirit dreams.


	8. Chapter Eight

"New plan, Pocahontas," Logan woke her up an hour early the next morning. She grumbled and stretched, then let her body relax so it could go back to sleep.

"Come on," he insisted, throwing back the covers so she couldn't get comfy. She squinted up at him with eyes that weren't ready to open.

"What are we doing?"

"You told me I couldn't protect you by leaving, so here's the new plan. I'm gonna teach you how to protect yourself." He tossed her some sweats and a t-shirt, waiting impatiently for her to pad to the bathroom to dress.

"How are you gonna do that?" she asked from the other room. When she returned, he showed her, taking up a stance that reminded her of a bad Japanese movie.

"Just do this," he instructed. Obediently she copied the placement of his feet and hands.

"Now this," he shifted, repeating the process. He led her through a series of movements over and over till she had it down and could follow him in one fluid motion.

"Karate?" she asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"Ju Jitsu," he corrected. "Karate's too obvious."

She nodded as if she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Now go make us some coffee and I'll turn on the shower."

She threw him a glance of appreciation as he stripped off his shorts. Watching him move shirtless thru various martial arts poses had been a pleasant way to start her day. Seeing him disappear into the bathroom without a stitch of clothing on made it even better.

"And I want you to meet me at the gym after work." He turned back with a twisted grin on his face and she couldn't decide if it was because he knew just how much he excited her or because he had extensive plans for torture at the gym. Either way it didn't matter, as the work out he gave her in the shower was more than enough to keep her smiling the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Time sped by in its own rhythm after that. They spent mornings working on poses for their katas, or stretching with yoga. Evenings were focused on building muscle with free weights and sparring. Jesse wasn't the most cheerful student at first, but as her body got used to the endorphins released when she exercised, soon she got grumpy if a workout was missed. Logan was a patient teacher, driven by the need to keep her safe. He didn't know what her saber tooth vision meant but if it ever came to pass, he was going to be sure she was ready. No more carelessly flinging herself at her attacker unarmed. Now he impressed on her the need for deliberate movement, conserving energy and making contact count. He made her a staff for her birthday, teaching her how to use it for attack and defense. At Christmas, it was a delicate but deadly katana sword. Soon their home had almost as many Japanese weapons decorating the walls as Native American. In return for all his hard work, Jesse showed him how to start a fire with flint and use another rock to chip off razor sharp arrowheads. She made him a long knife with her own carefully crafted stone blade, decorating the handle with beaded leather fringe.<p>

It wasn't long after Christmas that Jesse's mood began to change. She planned a New Year's Eve party and spending that night with her closest friends seemed to raise her spirits. She was even beginning to bond with Daniel's girlfriend. But as soon it was over, she began to withdraw again. Logan tried to draw her out by letting her win a few sparring matches, but he couldn't get the cloud to lift. All finally came to a head one afternoon when he found out she left the diner early. He sped home to find her nestled into the couch, covered in her favorite blanket.

"Why didn't you tell me what day it was today?" he asked, dropping onto the coffee table so he could look her in the eye.

"January 4th," she said, dropping her gaze.

"The day your grandfather passed."

"Yes," she admitted, pulling a tissue out of the box beside her and wiping her nose. "5 years ago today. Did Tony tell you?"

"No," Logan reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

"Buddy and Greg at work. They asked how you were doing."

"I'm ok," she shrugged. "I just miss him."

"Jesse."

She looked him in the eye. "I know, I know. You can smell it when I lie."

Logan closed his eyes and pulled back from her.

"I just wish you woulda told me, is all."

"I didn't want you to worry about me," she said. "It's hard to talk about."

"Then let's get outa here for a while." Logan suggested. "We can go hike the boulder trail. Make a fire."

"I don't wanna go anywhere," Jesse sighed, picking at imaginary tufts of fuzz on her blanket.

"Humor me."

She looked up, trying not to smile. She knew he knew exactly how those words would affect her. She wasn't good at telling him 'no.'

"Logan," she protested, but it was too late. He knew he had the upper hand now and reached to help her off the couch.

"It's cold out," he reminded. "Better wear your big coat. And the scarf. And mittens. I'll grab a sleeping bag."

An hour later, they sat in front of a fire they'd built at her favorite spot on what she called the boulder trail, named for several outcroppings of rock that towered over the landscape. A trail worn by thousands of hikers passed in and around the rock formations, but there was no activity to speak of this time of year. Jesse had to admit that Logan's idea to get out of the apartment had been a good one. She let the frozen January wind grip her soul. As night fell, Logan drew the sleeping bag around them, holding on to Jesse as she stared into the fire. He rubbed his hands down her arms to warm her up, as she sank into his embrace.

"I'm sorry I never got to meet your grandfather."

"Charlie Ray taught me so many things no one hears anymore," she sniffled. "The world would be a better place if he were still here."

"You're here, kid," Logan reminded, sad to see her so distraught.

"My voice isn't loud enough, Logan. I think it's too late."

"C'mon, don't say that. It ain't over yet. Practice on me. Tell me what you'd say if you could speak the words of Charlie Ray."

She turned to look in his eyes, searching for, and finding his sincerity.

"Nobody wants to hear the wisdom of old men," she dropped her gaze. "The world moves so fast now. It's dog-eat-dog out there. The way of the People is gone. You have no idea how out-dated I feel. All the predictions of my ancestors have come to pass. Our world has no quiet places left. No one cares to get lost watching a bluebird. Or celebrate a sunrise, or give value to their fellow human being."

For once Logan was silent, unable to argue her logic.

"Charlie Ray taught me that we are all one. That we need to go back to a time when the most important word of all was 'respect.' We should respect that every being on earth was put here for a purpose. And just because we can't understand something's purpose doesn't mean it's less important than our own."

"Your grandfather was a very wise man," he spoke into her ear. "Maybe you feel so strongly about this because it's time to be his voice."

"I don't understand," she replied, shivering.

"I think we should work on his cabin. Start a retreat there. You can teach what Charlie Ray taught you. I can teach self-defense. We could build a place that's self-sufficient. Solar power, water from the creek. Totally off the grid."

"Like him," Jesse smiled.

"Yes," Logan agreed, squeezing her tight.

"We could build a long house for campers," she began to add to his idea. "Make everything authentic. People are searching for that."

Logan agreed, kissing her cheek.

"Bet I know some folks that'd love to help."

"Daniel," Jesse laughed, feeling the warm coals of Logan's idea being fanned into a flame. "We really could do it, couldn't we?"

"Yes," he shifted position. "As long as we don't sit out here so long we freeze to death."


	9. Chapter Nine

As winter lingered they spent their nights listening to the whistle of arctic breezes and making plans for a new mountain cabin. They laid dreams down on paper, sketching out plans for a retreat where they could teach self-defense and ancient Indian lore. They didn't know if the dream would become reality but the idea cemented them, bringing with it an enthusiasm for the future neither had experienced before. Jesse was just happy to think her life might not be played out at Tony's Diner. She knew Sophie was happy to spend her old age there working beside her boss, but knowing that wasn't her end cheered Jesse. She couldn't wait till spring when they could start working on her grandfather's property for real.

In the mean time, she allowed herself to enjoy learning the art of self-defense from Logan. Her newfound strength and flexibility gave her more confidence than she'd ever had. Knowing her way around different weapons gave her a strong sense of self-assurance and peace. She combined all of this with things taught to her years ago by Charlie Ray, wondering if her ancestors had felt the way she did now, strong, brave and capable, but always keeping life's sanctity in perspective.

Her favorite thing of all was getting in the ring at the gym, sparring with Logan. Most of the time he out-boxed her, but every now and then she sent him to the mat, something she never let him live down. Those were the moments when she became the alpha female. The warrior woman rose up in her with blazing black eyes and triumphant war whoops. She knew it was silly but that silliness was needed sometimes to break up the sheer physical exertion. Logan used this knowledge to push her body to its limit, letting her think she had the upper hand, only to take her down at the last minute. They'd end up laughing and tangled on the mat, their bond strengthening as only happens to those who work together for a common goal.

It was during one of these matches that Logan threw out a familiar challenge: winner would get to plan an entire day for the loser. Jesse knew what that meant if she lost again. This time she was determined that wouldn't happen.

"You know what this means, right?" She taunted, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she adjusted her protective gear. Even over a mouth guard it was easy to tease him.

"Chick flick at the Cinema 16. And dinner at Bonefish Grill. After you dust and finish the laundry."

She bobbed, then lunged forward, trying to suck him into doing the same. He knew her better than that, ducking easily under her intended right swing. Her momentum sent her slightly off course but she used the motion to spin herself around, launching a kick that caught him in the chest. It sent him back half a step so she darted in and followed up with quick jabs to his torso.

"Playin' for keeps this time, huh?" he challenged, bringing both fists up to break her onslaught. They both took dancing steps backward, circling to size each other up.

"Last time I spent all day watching stupid TV and cooking lasagna." She saw the muscles in his thighs bunch as he stepped toward her, his left fist catching her under her rib cage. The air escaped her lungs but she recovered quickly, knowing his left jab was always followed by an uppercut with a one-two combo. She dropped to the floor, somersaulting into position behind him. From there she threw out her legs, causing him to trip and land on his knees. She was on her feet like a cat, kicking upward against his middle, then bringing her elbow down in the middle of his back. He dropped and rolled, grabbing her around the waist and bringing her to the floor with him.

"You can learn things from TV," he countered, straddling her for one quick moment. "You been watching wrestling again, I see."

They disengaged, both hopping to their feet and retreating to opposite corners. Jesse used the time to limber up her arms, throwing punches into the air.

"You're wasting energy," he reminded, lunging forward and landing a jab to her torso. She tried to fall back but he was there, pushing her against the ropes. Two more jabs to the body and an uppercut to the chin forced her spinning out from under his onslaught. Then it was his turn on the ropes. She ducked in with a one-two combo, the strength of the blows and guttural cries that escaped her as each one landed let him know she was getting frustrated.

"You're giving me an edge, you know that right?" He teased. "Don't take it personal. Don't get pissed off. You don't fight smart when you're pissed off."

She threw another left. Logan dodged right and her fist met nothing but air.

"I'm not pissed off," she insisted.

"Turned on? Cuz God knows I am." He dove for her and spun her around, effectively placing her in the corner again. She brought both fists up to protect her face as he launched a sideways kick that knocked her down. He grinned when she growled and sprang to her feet.

"Now I'm pissed off."

"Show me what ya got, Princess," he taunted. The tease in his voice got to her. Tucking her fists under her chin, she advanced, throwing a right, then a left, then another right. This time it was her uppercut that sent him back a step. She came in for the kill then, launching a kick to his side. Logan saw it coming. As their bodies connected he grabbed her leg, flipping her easily face forward onto the mat.

"Had enough yet?"

"Never." She contorted her body to send an ineffective punch toward the side of his head. When it missed, she allowed herself to fall back, twisting into a sitting position.

"You can't fight from down there," Logan insisted. "Get up."

She pulled herself up, favoring the leg he'd twisted.

"Don't try that," He shook his head, pointing toward her as she advanced. The look of determination on her face was enough for him to sense what she was feeling.

"Lemme check out the leg. We'll take a break." He turned away, heading for a corner of the ring. Jesse whooped and launched herself at him, jumping high so she'd land on his back. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around his throat and her legs around his waist. Their sweat mingled as she breathed heavily into his ear.

"You gave up too soon," she chided as he spun slowly around and pressed her against the ropes. "You're too easy on me."

She dropped to the floor but left her arms around his neck as he turned to face her.

"Throwin' a punch at you ain't easy, kid," he murmured against her cheek. She brought down a gloved fist and patted his shoulder, grinning.

"I know."

* * *

><p>"You use that knowledge to your advantage," he puffed as they arrived home later, trying to act as though she was using an unfair weapon against him.<p>

"You're the one who taught me to look for my opponent's weakness to exploit it. I don't feel bad."

She pulled out her keys and unlocked the apartment door, reaching in to flip on the light. Throwing down her gym bag, she turned to face him.

"I can't help that your weakness is me."

He advanced on her, eyebrows furrowed in mock anger. Jesse backed down the hallway, taunting him with her boxer's stance.

"C'mon, you know I beat you." she giggled.

He dove for her midsection and carried the tackle all the way back to his bedroom. Pinning her on his bed, he challenged. "You wanna say that again?"

"I beat you," she whispered, sticking out her tongue. He buried his face against her neck, the wiry hair on his jawbone giving her goosebumps.

"What's rule number one in mortal combat?" His hot breath in her ear added a shiver.

"No retreat, Baby. No surrender."

"That's a Springsteen song."

She giggled. "Never give up. Never surrender?"

"Weird space movie."

"Either do or do not. There is no 'try.'"

Logan groaned but Jesse made up for her bad joke by unbuttoning his shirt and sliding her hands over his shoulders. She kissed his neck, slowly tracing the lump of his Adam's apple with her tongue.

"The number one rule of mortal combat is to never let your opponent see that you are truly and madly, forever and always in love with him. Or her, as the case may be." She jabbed playfully at his chest with both fists then pushed him onto his back, straddling him as she untied her hair and pulled off her shirt. Logan pulled himself into a sitting position, easing her forward till they were face to face.

"The number one rule in mortal combat is 'survive,'" he corrected. "I'm gonna make you a warrior, Princess. Even if it kills me."

* * *

><p>"I wanna go to the fair," Jesse announced the next morning. "You know I beat you in the ring yesterday. So I get to pick what we do. I wanna go to the fair."<p>

"The winner of that match is still up for debate," he reminded, reaching for her underneath the covers. Jesse squawked in mock outrage.

"If I'da held you in that choke hold you woulda gone down. You know it Wolverine."

"But you let go. Not to mention tricking me into turning my back on you in the first place. We were on break."

"I think this debate could go on forever," she pouted.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "I'll take the first half of the day and you get the second. Compromise. We both win."

Jesse smiled and slid her arms around him. "So diplomatic."

"I want breakfast in bed," he added, tilting his head so he could look her in the eye. "The works. Bacon, eggs, biscuits, coffee and OJ."

"We don't have any OJ," she protested, squirming herself against him. "You gonna make me go out and get some?"

"I hate the fair," he grumbled against the side of her head. "You gonna wanna ride the Ferris wheel?"

Jesse sighed and slid out of bed.

"Compromise," she growled, disappearing into the bathroom.

"Makes the world go round, Pocahontas."

Except for having to go out for orange juice, Jesse couldn't really complain about how they spent the day. When it came time for the fair she pulled on her favorite skintight jeans, donned a turquoise peasant blouse and tied a feather and bead-laden leather thong around her braid. A dusty straw cowboy hat and silver tipped boots finished out the look. She smiled when it became apparent Logan liked what he saw.

"Your exercise program really works," she quipped, pretending to sound like one of those weight loss commercials they always played on the radio.

Logan picked out a fat cigar, looking her up and down. "You better stay very close to me tonight. Anybody tryin to squeeze in on my girl is gonna be sorry."

They hit the road on Logan's Harley, driving close to 40 miles before coming to Silverton, a town more than twice the size of Cedar Ridge. Logan followed Jesse around acres of livestock pens, watching as she petted calves, chased down chickens and coo-ed over little pink piglets. He shook his head no when she held up a pit bull puppy, and again when she showed him a black and white bunny. He softened the blow by taking her to the center of the fair grounds and submitting to line dancing to music by a guy named Keith Urban.

As darkness fell, the fairgrounds came alive. Loud music had to compete with screams from people on the rides. Hawkers tried their best to get every person who passed to play their games. Jesse won a goldfish at a ring toss, only to pass it on to a little girl standing behind her, explaining to her mom that the fish would never survive a ride home on a motorcycle.

Logan had to admit that even though he hated crowds and noisy chaos, he loved how Jesse sparkled in the night. He noticed every sideways glance sent in her direction, spending most of the evening with an arm draped possessively over her shoulder. He puffed on his cigar, proud to be the man at Jesse's side. This was a different girl than the one he'd first met outside Tony's Diner. She was confident and joyful, overflowing with life. When she looked into his eyes, it was to try and convey to him that he was the author of those changes. And when he bent to kiss her on the fairway and she blissfully wrapped her arms around him, he lost himself, memorizing the scent of cotton candy, sawdust, and Jesse's perfume.

Her last request was to ride the Ferris wheel. They got sidetracked in so many different directions on the way to the huge contraption that it was close to midnight when they got in line. Overly-tired children argued with parents, sugar highs crashing as they tried to squeeze in one more ride. Over-worked carneys helped people off when the great wheel stopped, then loaded more, one seat at a time.

"I promise I won't rock us," Jesse giggled, tipsy from too much beer and fresh air. Her feet couldn't contain the nerves that began to jangle as they waited their turn. She danced from one foot to the other.

"Marley?" They heard a mom calling for a child behind them. She pushed her way through the line, alternately bending and stretching to try and catch a glimpse of one who must have gotten separated. A groan went up from a group of four ahead of Jesse and Logan as the ride was stopped in order to find the child.

"Marley!" This time there was desperation in the cry. Jesse's heart went out to the young mother who already had a baby clutched to her chest.

"Marley where are you? I can't find you. Marley!"

A gasp went up from the crowd beneath the Ferris wheel as a tiny cry of "Mommy!" was heard high in the sky. At about that same moment a stuffed bear came careening from the Ferris wheel's highest point. The carnie in charge of the ride reached for the gears to put it in motion but Logan pushed forward, grabbing his arm. He pointed up to where a little girl clung to the outside of the ride, her pink dress barely showing between a seat and the wheel's vertical frame.

"You'll lose that kid if this ride moves an inch."

"Oh Jesus," Marley's mom dropped to her knees and Logan sprang into action. He jumped onto the light-encrusted Ferris wheel, carefully climbing from one metal support to another.

"Logan be careful!" Jesse screamed, moving to put an arm around the sobbing woman. The Ferris wheel rocked uncertainly from Logan's extra weight. Marley's car began to shake and the little girl screamed in terror. How she'd managed to get out of the seat was anybody's guess. With the wind picking up and her fear getting the best of her, it was clear the child wouldn't be holding on much longer.

"Come on kid, hang on one more minute," Logan said. He could see the fear in her huge saucer eyes. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she cried for herself and her fallen bear. He positioned himself so that even if she let go he would be able to catch her, then climbed the last few feet to the top of the ride. A cheer went up as his arm encircled the girl.

"You're gonna have to hold on now," he hugged her tight. "Don't let go."

Marley didn't have to be told twice. She wrapped both arms and legs around Logan as he made his decent, burying her face against him. His motions made the Ferris wheel rock in ways that were never intended. Steel began to groan and shake as a car above them came loose and popped out of its frame. This caused a chain reaction as pressure shifted and the already shaky apparatus began to come apart. The entire upper half of the ride bent forward and dropped toward the ground, scattering onlookers. Jesse pulled Marley's mother back as they both watched Logan twist to avoid the metal and glass raining down on him. Marley screamed and so did her mom, as they dropped, jerking to a temporary halt as the network of lighting wires caught them, then let go. The Ferris wheel gave a moan of metal against metal then fell into itself. Jesse left the older woman's side to race toward where she'd last seen Logan. A group of carnies and a State Trooper held her back, creating a wall of men she couldn't fight her way through.

"Logan!" she screamed his name, pushing ineffectively against the men in front of her. Metal debris continued to fall for a moment or two, then everything went quiet. No one could believe what they'd just seen. Jesse dropped to her knees and yelled for Logan again, eyes still wide in disbelief. Then the ride began to shudder. From underneath came the crashing sounds of metal into metal. Jesse stood to her feet.

"Come on Logan, get out of there."

One of the officers gave her a sorrowful look, reaching for her shoulder. Jesse shook him off. Darting around him, she advanced on the glittering pile of twisted metal. As she watched, three blades pierced through the wreckage and cut it aside like a sardine can. Logan bent the ride's steel foundation away with one hand and set the little girl down safe on the ground with the other. Jesse flung herself at him as he retracted his metal claws, brushing glass and metal off his shoulders.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," he assured her, wrapping both arms around her waist. They remained rooted to the spot, silhouetted by the ride's glaring spotlights, till Marley's mother and one of the Troopers approached them.

"We need to get out of here," Logan bent and spoke into Jesse's ear. He grabbed her arm, leading her away from the ride. One of the officers joined them, matching step as they pushed upstream through the crowds. He acted as a buffer, keeping Jesse and Logan separated from those who had witnessed the event. More people came running as the ride crashed to the ground and soon the grounds were a swirling chaos.

"You two need any help?" The Trooper asked. He gave Logan a look that Jesse didn't quite understand, until she realized that they were surrounded by some sort of energy field. The people they passed didn't acknowledge their presence, as if they were invisible.

"He's a Mutant?" Jesse leaned over to whisper in Logan's ear. His grip on her arm intensified as he nodded her forward. Before she knew it, she was hopping onto the back of the Harley.

Logan thanked their bodyguard. They spoke in quiet conversation that Jesse couldn't hear, then she and Logan sped off into the night.


	10. Chapter Ten

"What happened back there?" Jesse asked, once they got home. It was obvious Logan was agitated. He paced the floor as she pulled off her boots and dug out something to sleep in.

"You don't get it do you?" he returned. "I been trying to stay under the radar for three years now. Let's hope nobody got tonight's adventures on video."

"It was dark," Jesse offered, shrugging. "You had your back to the crowd the entire time. We'll be ok."

Logan stared at her for a long time, quiet as she went about the business of getting ready for bed. She had no idea he was memorizing everything about her. There was no way for her to know he'd spent the whole trip home making up his mind. If he was recognizable as the story of the fallen Ferris wheel came to light, he was going to have to leave. There was no way he'd stay and lead the same people who'd tortured and almost killed him to the one person on earth he loved the most. A fight with a bear and an accidental injury were one thing. Losing Jesse to the evil he only knew as 'Stryker' had never been an option.

"You're a hero," she reminded, as he pulled her close in bed.

He growled a little under his breath and planted a kiss on the top of her head, thankful that the room was dark and his eyes were closed. She couldn't look into them as she'd done last time and discover his intentions. He held her into the wee hours of the morning, long after her body had relaxed against his in sleep.

The next day dragged on slowly as Jesse went through the motions of her day. The news on radio and TV told the story of a child being rescued by a disappearing 'Good Samaritan.' Standing in the middle of Tony's Diner she watched the video, biting her fingernails, reliving the few minutes that Logan and Marley hung clinging to a ride. She'd been right about his back being all that could be seen. She didn't think the video's existence would change anything, thanking the stars for the timely appearance of the Trooper who got them away from the scene.

"The only one who could tell it was you would be someone who already knows you," she told Logan later, calling up the video on her own PC.

"Think about what you're saying," he sighed. "Someone who already knows me."

"You think someone's still looking?"

"I don't know," he mumbled. It had become harder and harder for him to talk to her. All day long he'd turned over his decision in his mind, with no one to turn to for advice. Without Jesse to talk to he felt as though he'd lost a limb. He had to come clean and tell her what he was thinking, but he knew that doing so was going to break her. He braced himself to tell her several times in the oncoming days, but was always distracted by some little thing she would do or say that he knew he didn't want to live without. Like the way she sat cross-legged on his bed, absently braiding her hair. Everything in him wanted to take her in his arms, but he knew if they touched it would be the last time, and he couldn't bring himself to open that door. Distancing himself was easier. But Jesse, who could only sense a funny difference in his behavior, didn't understand his need to keep her at arm's length.

She patted the bed beside her, beckoning him to join her. He sat down with his back to her so she turned and began to massage his shoulders with both hands. Tension that usually melted at her touch remained stubborn. Every muscle in his upper body was stiff. She leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, kneading relentlessly.

"Where have you gone, my Wolverine?"

"Jesse," he whispered. With that one word, the pain in his heart was revealed. He turned and pulled her into his arms. She struggled against him for a moment, wanting to pull back and search his face, his intentions. When he wouldn't let go, she knew. She accepted the kisses that covered her face, the arms that encircled and held her so tight she could barely breathe.

"I can't lead them to you."

She let him undress her as an archeologist unearths a sacred treasure. His hands had to feel every part of her, his mouth ached to taste so he'd never forget.

Cradled in his embrace Jesse did the only thing she could do - hold on. She pressed her face against the hollow of his neck, feeling his beloved pulse against her lips. With her legs she gripped his lower half, her arms held on to the top, not unlike little Marley when she had been clinging to him for dear life. Her tears flowed as freely as everything else she'd ever given him. She'd never hid an emotion in the past, now was not the time for her to start.

As their passion for each other burned into the night she remembered when she'd first felt herself falling in love. Borrowed time was what she'd known back then. She'd let the passage of seasons and their deepening connection trick her into thinking there'd be more. All the talk of rebuilding cabins and creating a future had been nothing but smoke screen. Now his intentions were laid bare and she knew there'd be no arguing. Every kiss that touched her skin was another kiss goodbye.

She called in sick the next day, sitting silently by as he packed the things he'd need. It gave her small consolation that he was leaving with more than he had when they'd met. When she could handle no more she pulled her grandfather's pipe down from where it hung on the wall. Pulling open the pouch that hung from it, she poured the tobacco.

"Smoke with me," she challenged. "There are things I have to say."

Logan took his familiar spot on the coffee table so he could face her while Jesse put a match to the bowl of Charlie Ray's pipe. Part of her wanted to remain silent. She knew his heart was as heavy as hers. Another part, the one that had thrived and strengthened while in his company, demanded that she speak. Her grandfather had taught her that there were times when things had to be spoken into the universe, so that all would bear witness to the truth.

"The sun and moon, the stars all saw us," she spoke in a low, lilting chant. "When I gave myself to you, when you took my very soul. It wasn't in the darkness. It didn't go unseen. May the sky and its clouds bear witness of me wherever they find you. When the wind blows on your skin, it's speaking my name. You can leave my body, Wolverine, but your heart will remain, for you gave it to me. My heart you take with you now, for I do not want it back. I would give my very breath if it could somehow keep you."

She pulled lightly on the pipe, sending its fragrant smoke into the room, then she turned it around and passed it to Logan.

"Joy will not light my eyes," she finished. "Until once again they look into your own." She stood to her feet and disappeared into his room, coming back with the wooden wolverine. She held it out to him with a shaking hand.

"Jesse, try to understand."

She shook her head. She'd already said every word she could think of to try and change his mind. He would hear none of it. The only thing left for her to do was let go. A strange sense of numbness came over her then. There were no more tears. The light left her eyes. She pressed the little carving into his hand and brushed his cheek with her lips, then took her position back on the couch. Logan stood to his feet, handing her back her grandfather's peace pipe. He leaned forward to embrace her again but she backed away.

"I love you," he croaked, voice choked with emotion. "Someday you'll understand. This is the only way."

He was miles away and hours gone before she replied.

"No I won't, and no it isn't."


	11. Chapter Eleven

Logan drove south, every mile that separated him from his love and his life added a new dimension of anger. If he had been home he could have found release at the gym, or by taking Jesse and disappearing into the wilderness. Now he was faced with nothing but open road, and no direction. And a rage that threatened to send him over the edge. He had failed the one person that mattered to him the most. He had let himself believe that he could keep the life full of love and simple purpose that he enjoyed with Jesse, forever. He had bought the lie that 'forever' could exist in the first place. But worst of all he'd led another into believing it too. The only one he could remember that hadn't tried to take from him. From the first minute she'd seen him all she'd done was give.

Cracking a few heads in a bar later that night didn't ease his pain. Jesse's curse haunted him. Every time the wind blew across his skin, every time he found himself staring into the sky, she was there. Kicking his bike to life, he threw up gravel and continued his flight, heading toward the only other soul in his life he could vaguely remember.

He found Remy Le Beau at a card table in an empty bar off Bourbon Street, in New Orleans, looking much like he had the last time he'd been there: deck of cards in one hand, bottle in the other. Nothing had changed except for the addition of a dark skinned woman who stood by his side.

"Wolverine, _ami_, where the hell 'ave you been?" Remy smiled, pushing a chair out from under the table with a booted foot. Logan took hold of its back but didn't sit down.

"Tryin to start over," he grumbled. "Who's your new friend?"

Remy nodded slightly to the woman, who came out from behind him, hand outstretched.

"Dis here Lena Veiga. She make sure da' game stay clean."

Logan shook her hand. The instant they touched Lena let out a cry of pain.

"What you touch her with?" The Cajun jumped from his seat. Logan held his hands out, palms up.

"Nothin'." He dropped his hands. Much as the rage inside him wanted out, he hadn't come here for a fight.

"There's nothing in my hand," he growled again.

"What you touch before you come in here?" she asked in a thickly Caribbean accent. She stepped closer to him, and Logan noticed beads and bits of bone jewelry entwined into her dreadlocks. He thrust his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out Jesse's wooden wolverine.

"What dis?" She asked, plucking the carved animal out of his hand. Her eyes closed and a single tear slipped down her mahogany cheek. Her eyes flew open. Logan saw her lips move but heard Jesse's voice.

_"'Keep him safe and bring him back to me.'"_

Hearing Jesse's voice hit Logan in the gut. He sank into the chair Remy had offered him earlier.

"How'd she do that?" he questioned.

Remy leaned across the table. "Some folk round here call her 'Voodoo,'" he kept his voice low. "She touch something, she hear its memory. What it's seen, heard, you name it."

Lena opened her mouth again, this time speaking in an unmistakably lilting accent of a Native American man.

_"Bright One, see what I have for you today. Something stopped here looking for you_."

A child's voice followed, "_What, Poppa?"_ Logan didn't have to be told it was the voice of Jesse as a little girl. He listened to her laugh and imagined Charlie Ray first placing the carving into her hand.

"Dis a sacred piece," Lena raised an eyebrow at Logan as she offered it back. "Why you hurt dat girl? She need you back home."

"I can't go home," he grumbled. "If somebody's lookin for me, I'm not leadin' them to her."

"So you left her cuz you thought you'd keep her safe?" Remy ordered Logan a beer and Lena sat between them.

"I can't let whatever we were fighting on that Island get her too."

"William Stryker," Remy spat. "All dis time you still gonna let him control your life? You know a bunch a mutants got out of there cuz a you. Stryker's facing court martial. But there's a whole lot a other bad stuff waiting' right around the corner. Seem to me you left dat girl wide open."

Logan's body tensed when he heard the words 'William Stryker.'

"What happened there?" he asked. "I can't remember."

"We flew there to get Stryker. You don' remember this? You work for him once. He gave you that thick metal skull. Tryin to make a perfect weapon. Why he choose you… I'll never know."

"Cuz I heal quick." Pieces of the puzzle finally came into place.

"Well Stryker didn't only experiment on you. I spent some time in his company myself. You busted 'em all out an they got away. By da time you an me got there, fella hold a full house. You go crazy on dat place an bust em all out. Then you had a hell of a fight with his new weapon. When I foun' you da whole place was fallin apart. After dat you went your own way. I went mine. Those kids you set free were picked up by a guy with a helicopter."

"When did this happen?" Logan asked.

"Four year ago dis past summer, I reckon. I came back home. You disappear."

"I met Jesse in the winter. She saved my life."

"Den why you go an leave her," Lena broke in. "Dat chile need you by her side. Folk don' run when things get tough. They take a stand an' fight."

* * *

><p>When Jesse did finally rise from the place where Logan had left her, it was only to go to the bathroom. Then she went to her room and pulled out her old wooden box. Charlie Ray's ancient long knife gleamed there. She hefted it in her hand, bringing the blade up to run a thumb across it. Still sharp. She knew it would work for what she needed. Taking the box to Logan's room, she sat cross-legged on his bed. His pillow beckoned her. She drew it to her chest, burying her face in its softness for one brief moment and wishing she had Logan's sense of smell. Memories threatened to crash over her like fierce ocean waves. So many times had she loosened her braid here, watching as Logan inhaled her scent. So many hours had been spent dreaming in each other's arms. So much had died when Logan left her. There was so much to mourn, and only acceptable way to do it. She steeled herself against her memories and raised her grandfather's blade, unconsciously singing his song underneath her breath. Soon a line of red ran across her lower left arm, just past where it bent at the elbow. Its twin then blossomed on the right. The cuts weren't deep enough to cause much damage, but the release she felt at the sight of her own blood gave her strength to continue.<p>

_"Every little thing… is gonna be alright,"_ she chanted, waiting for a sense of peace that never came. Reaching over her shoulder, she pulled her braid forward, sawing at it till the blade released it into her hand. Tears threatened again as she studied the symbol of her mourning.

"Every little thing…"

Clutching the braid to her chest, she cried out to whatever spirits might be there to listen. Pouring out her hurt like a sacred offering, she placed her future in the hands of the Universe. She wanted Logan back. She begged for Logan back, but she also recognized and submitted to a higher power. The Great Spirit, the Creator. The only one who knew the end from the beginning. And then it was over. She coiled her braid into the box, along with her other treasures. Emotionally spent, she dropped backward on the bed. Sleep beckoned and finally overcame her. She gave in to its peace-filled promise, hoping only that she might at least be with Logan again in her dreams.

Each of her days ran right in to the other after that. A new one started just like the last, with Jesse going through the motions. She supposed there would come a day when she felt like herself again but for now, she couldn't work up a reason to try. Those who knew Native American tradition didn't ask about her hair or her scars. Those who didn't could tell it was better not to ask. Cedar Ridge was a small place. Everybody knew Logan was gone.

Ben Greyhawk had always been a regular at Tony's but when he saw Jesse's shorn locks he made it a habit to check in for breakfast every morning.

"Your braid's gone," he observed one day, as she served him his coffee. Jesse shrugged and set down a small pitcher of cream, even though she knew the Sheriff took his coffee black.

'So's Logan," he continued, despite the fact that his words made her eyes swim with unshed tears.

"Nothing lasts forever, Jesse," he reminded. "The sun will always rise and the moon is gonna set, but underneath the skies, things always change. You can't give up on life, Bright One. That's not what Charlie Ray would have wanted."

He reached across the counter and took her hand, turning her arm over to count the scars trailing down to her wrist.

"People are worried about you."

Jesse pulled out of his grasp, wrapping both arms around herself. If she tried to tell him she'd be alright it would be a lie. She'd long since stopped singing the song her grandfather had ingrained into her soul. She knew every little thing would never be right again, so she simply disappeared into the kitchen, then out the back door, to take her familiar place on the back steps. This was where they used to sit on sunny days when Logan crossed the street for lunch. Now it was just a cold, hard place. Without him, all of Jesse's life felt like the cement she sat on. Hard, unyielding, and empty.

But customers continued to show up at Tony's a little before seven. Jesse took their orders then ducked into the kitchen to help Sophie fill them. It would be well after one o'clock every day before things would slow down at the diner. Jesse cleaned tables, Daniel washed dishes. Tony kept both of his waitresses on for the dinner crowd. Mostly because he was afraid to let Jesse spend much time alone.

* * *

><p>"Tell me 'bout Jesse," Lena asked Logan during an especially slow night at the bar. Remy was dealing a game of five-card stud at a table of four drunken tourists. He'd given his girl the task of keeping Logan out of trouble. Something he'd given up on.<p>

"She's Iroquois," Logan started, eyes glazing as Jesse's memory filled his soul. "Mohawk, Bear Clan. What more do you need to know?" Logan closed his eyes and brought a bottle to his lips.

'_Cuz I can tell ya,' _he thought to himself_. 'How many tribes call themselves People of The Long House… How the North Star made it to the sky… _

"Not _what _she is, Logan," Lena persisted. "Tell me 'bout _**Jesse**_."

Logan's eyes flashed as he wondered what this little woman from the depths of the Dominican Republic was getting at.

"What do you wanna know? She's the other half of everything I am, or wanna be. I called her Pocahontas, my Native American princess." Logan closed his eyes, remembering the things he loved about Jesse. His voice lowered. He forgot he was talking to Lena as his description clarified her image in his mind.

"She can walk through the woods without making a sound. When she's out there the whole forest stops just to watch her move. She can hear things on the wind, feel the pulse of the planet by holding a feather in her hand. There are ways she can sense things even before me. She loves playin hide-n-seek in the woods. Last thing she'd do every time it was her turn to hide was touch my nose and say 'No fair sniffin' me out.' Only lotsa times I couldn't find her without sniffin' her out."

"She's always talkin about bringing people back to the ways of her grandfather." He stopped, realizing that he'd gone on longer than he'd meant to.

"She's brave. She's strong. And she'll be alright without me."

"What 'bout you, Logan?" Lena questioned. "Will you be a'right widout her?"


	12. Chapter Twelve

Logan stared at Lena for a long moment, finally coming face to face with the answer to her question. He stood to his feet, tipping over his chair in the process. Leaving the bar, he took to the streets of New Orleans.

"Aw, _Chere'_" Remy came to Lena's side as she watched Logan disappear.

"Why you go an piss him off. Huh? God only knows what kinda trouble he get into now."

"Him not pissed off," Lena defended herself. "Him just need some time to do some t'inkin'. Besides, that one a'ready pissed off at the world. Jus' pray he don' do nuthin tonight to get in too much trouble. We gotta get him back to dat girl."

Remy pulled Lena close and she leaned back into his embrace. "I t'ink it time to finish dis," she murmered. "I know what I gotta do."

"_Keep him safe and bring him back to me." _

The memory of Jesse's last plea to her totem haunted Logan. The city, with its crowds and noise and motion, closed in on him. He needed to be where he could feel close to her, somewhere where the wind was blowing and he could open up to nature as she'd taught him. It didn't take him long to find himself deep in the marshland that surrounded the city, taking out his anger on ancient oaks that flowed with Spanish moss.

The moon shone bright here, a soupy breeze from the Mississippi causing him to break out in a sweat. The air was thick, with no relief from the oppressive heat and humidity. But relief had not been what he'd come here for. He allowed himself to copy how Jesse had opened up to her surroundings, listening to the water and the wind that rode high in the trees. He drove himself on, not noticing the marshland change to swamp as he left civilization behind.

He felt eyes on him before he caught a scent other than his own on the breeze. Something wet was heading toward him from the tangle of mud and brush that surrounded him. Logan bared his teeth in anticipation. He'd been aching for a fight since he left Cedar Ridge. Crouching low, murky water up to his calves, Logan used the light glinting off the water to mark the creature's approach. Even though all he could see was the upper half of the alligator's head, the gentle swirls he left in his wake gave testimony to his length and girth.

"Come on," Logan breathed through clenched teeth, hardly daring to move in fear of the massive animal changing his mind and swimming away.

Soft sucking sounds in the mud assured the mutant that this would-be attacker was still intent on his mission to defend his territory. The alligator eased himself forward, using the soft, silty swamp bottom to his advantage. Breaking clean from the water, his flashed his head upward, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Logan chose that moment to dive forward, wrapping his arms around the beast as it swung its mighty tail backwards, pulling them both into deeper water.

The alligator rolled relentlessly, taking Logan ever deeper into the muddy water of the swamp. Logan thrashed, kicking backward in an attempt to find the bottom. When his boots connected with something solid he rose, roaring, to his feet. Now it was the alligator trapped in a death embrace. Logan heaved the 16 foot 'gator back into shallower waters, never giving up his grip long enough for the animal to escape. With a flip of its massive head it caught Logan's shoulder, knocking him off his feet. The alligator's jaws instinctively clamped down as he pulled his enemy back to a place where he could move more freely. Logan growled against the pain, as he felt his shoulder bone disconnect from its socket. The grinding force of the alligator's jaws threatened to sever the limb from his body. Logan braced himself, rising to his feet and raising his face to the sky. With a mighty heave the 'gator was flipped back to the grassy bank, tail thrashing madly. He loosened his grip on Logan for just an instant, and glittering claws flashed in the moonlight. Moments later it was over. The 'gator lay gutted and still in the murky swamp water. Logan sank to his knees, retracting claws and shaking clumps of mud and swamp grass out of his hair. He remained crouched over the animal till his breathing slowed and he felt the cool prickle of the breeze across his wet skin. With his left hand he popped his right shoulder back into its socket and rose to his feet. Head thumping dully, he made his way back to the place where he'd started, allowing the anger that had burned so hotly in battle to cool. He wasn't sure how many 'gators made a home this close to the glittering city of New Orleans, but he did know he knew he couldn't go on like forever.

Morning found Logan showered and already seated in the kitchen of the tiny apartment Remy and Lena shared.

"You don' look so good," Lena said when she saw him. "But since you're here…" She disappeared into the bedroom, coming back with a bright yellow doll she'd made of string and scraps of fabric. Pretending to reach behind him for a coffee cup, she managed to pluck several hairs from his head.

"What the hell?" Logan turned, rubbing the base of his neck as she gave him a determined look. He watched as she rolled the hairs up in a tiny slip of paper, neatly folding up each end. Piercing the paper with an ornate hat pin, she secured the little bundle to the doll's middle.

"I hear a word on the wind dis mornin'" she said, plopping the faceless doll on the table between them in such a way that its faceless head tilted toward Logan.

"Sabertooth."

That was all Logan needed to hear. He stood to his feet, but Lena grabbed his arm.

"You hold onto dis for dear life," she hissed, thrusting the little doll against his chest. "You keep it safe an maybe you be keepin' her safe too. Remy's gone to get his plane ready."

Logan clutched the doll in his fist, staring down at Lena. Moments later they climbed on Logan's Harley, threading their way through the streets toward the tiny airstrip where Remy kept his plane.

Jesse spent weekends cleaning up around Charlie Ray's cabin. Being close to his spirit brightened her soul. Part of her still wanted the dream of a retreat to come to pass. She got unanimous support from the Mohawk tribal elders to begin rebuilding Charlie Ray's cabin. Getting a building crew to such a remote place would be a nightmare, she knew. But for now, if she could rake, burn, and clear the land, it was enough to help her sleep at night. If she had been at home the morning Logan called to tell her he was coming home, she would have heard the message he left on her answering machine.

"Jesse," he told it. "I made a mistake. I love you. I'm on my way home."

It took Jesse several minutes to wrestle all her gear out of the truck when she got home. Pulling and tugging on her backpack and the little pup tent she'd taken with her, she made her way to the door, losing a few items and stopping to pick them back up along the way. She didn't notice at first that her door stood wide open. Even after she saw it was open, it took a minute to realize it looked as though it had been shredded. She stepped through the wreckage of the doorway, a cry escaping as she saw her most precious things lying shattered on the floor. Her couch was over turned along with every other piece of furniture in the room. Charlie Ray's peace pipe was broken in two pieces amidst what used to be her coffee table. The pictures on her walls had been ripped down. Even the portrait of the wolverine, given to her so long ago, hung crazily, in tatters. Tears filled her eyes as she knelt to retrieve pieces of a beaded headdress from the floor. Just then, a stone tomahawk whizzed over her head and out the door, exploding into pieces as it landed in the street.

"Aw hell, you made me miss."

Jesse froze. For the first time she saw a man in a long brown duster standing in the entry to her kitchen.

"Where's Jimmy?"

"I don't know who you're talking about," Jesse said, concealing a shard of glass up her sleeve as she stood to her feet.

He narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air. "Then how come I smell him?" He placed both hands on the doorframe and Jesse stared while his fingernails grew out and gouged the wood.

"No one named Jimmy is here," she continued. "Who are you?"

The newcomer smiled and the stench of his breath caused Jesse to fall back.

"Come on," he cajoled merrily. "Where's my little brother? I saw him bein' the hero on the five o'clock news. It's been a long time. I thought he'd be happy for a family reunion."

Jesse only shook her head. Her hands began to sweat as she became aware of the identity of this man.

"Maybe you call him Logan?" The stranger smirked. "Or even Wolverine?"

Jesse turned, gauging the distance between her and her front door. This wasn't Logan's brother. This was the Sabertooth. She knew she had to get away.

"He never mention me? My baby brother? Never say anything about Victor? That hurts." he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her close and pressing his nose against her neck.

"I can smell him on you," he insisted. "Where's my brother?"

"He's not here," Jesse answered, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat at the closeness of this creature.

"Then let's go find him."

"I don't know where he is." She pulled the glass shard from her sleeve and plunged it full force, into his chest.

Victor threw his head back and laughed. He took a step backward and looked down, gripping the glass and pulling out. Both of them watched as his blood flowed down its edge, splattering across her face as he flung the weapon aside.

"Don't you know us Howlett boys heal quick?"

His words hit her like a blow. She pulled away, willing herself to think.

'_Logan's brother… mutant… quick healer. Feral senses, strong._' She could almost see the numbers rising as the odds stacked up in his favor.

"Come on, hunny, it don't take that long to figure this out. Now where's my brother?"

Maybe he was a quick healer like Logan, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try and inflict some damage. Glancing toward the place where once her katana sword had hung, she dove for the base of the wall. Digging through splintered wood and debris, her hands locked around the hilt. She rose to her feet, sword high above her head.

"Little brother has good taste in women," he smirked, staring openly at Jesse, whose shorn locks spiked at odd angles on her head. He noticed the three scars that crossed her cheek and the warrior blaze in her eyes.

"I might have to keep you around for a while before I kill you."

Just then the phone rang. Neither of them moved as her recording to leave a message played into the silence between them.

Logan's voice cut across the room. Suddenly Jesse felt disconnected, as the normalcy of hearing a voice on her answering machine clashed with the insanity of what was unfolding in her living room.

"Jesse, answer the phone," Logan said. "Where are you? If you're there pick up. I'm comin' home. I love you."

Jesse's sharp intake of breath at the sound of his brother's voice was not lost on Victor. She moved toward the phone but he caught her around the waist.

"Don't tell me I caught you two in the middle of a lover's spat?"

Jesse's eyes came back into focus as his closeness intruded on the happiness and relief Logan's words had birthed in her heart. He was coming home. He loved her. It took a moment of Victor's sharp claws digging into the flesh on her arm to bring her back to her present.

"You gotta be kiddin' me," he breathed.

Right in front of him he saw a change come over Jesse. She stood taller, black eyes blazing. Logan's words had authored a startling change in his captive. Pulling herself out of his grasp, she turned and grabbed her wooden staff from its corner.

"This is gonna hurt you more than it's gonna hurt me, kid," he smiled, crouching and waiting for her to make her move.

Not one to keep a guest waiting, Jesse launched herself at him, calculating distance and momentum. She didn't calculate that he'd drop on all fours and leap at her from below. When he rose to his feet, he held her high above his head, throwing her easily across the room. She landed against the wall beneath the wolverine painting, stars exploding in her head on impact. Victor bent and slapped his knee in delight as the picture frame lost its fight with gravity and landed in her lap. But what he thought would demoralize her only gave her strength. The canvas in her hands was the shock of electricity she needed. Taking one last look at her animal spirit, she leapt to her feet and vaulted out the front door.

She could hear Victor laughing as she ran, hear him crashing through the wreckage of her apartment as he set off after her. From another plane, she heard him rev up a motorcycle and point it in her direction, but that didn't stop her from running. She wasn't surprised when he was nearly on top of her, but she didn't slow down. He threw his arm out, snatching her off her feet and planting her on the bike in front of him. The bike swayed dangerously, throwing up gravel as it found its balance, then they were roaring out of Cedar Ridge. Jesse closed her eyes against the grit in the air, angrier than she'd ever been. She wanted to bite and claw and punch her way free, but she was pinned down by her nightmare. Tears of rage leaked from her eyes as she consoled herself with knowing at least Logan was on his way. Maybe he'd find her before it was too late. Slowly the heat of anger gave way to cold determination. If this was a fight for her life, she was going to be ready. She was determined she'd see her wolverine again.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

They continued west, then north, traveling at break neck speeds, deeper and deeper into the wilderness. Jesse tried to figure out which way they were headed but after hours on the road, she was disoriented. When he stopped to fill up the tank, he kept her close to him, admonishing her not to say a word or even look at anyone while he paid for their gas.

Darkness fell and still he pushed the cycle forward. Jesse had no idea why he didn't just stop and finish her off where she was. He was headed somewhere, but he gave no clue as to where. Her head drooped and she dozed off and on, missing the sign that announced they were heading into Canada. He drove across the border, stopping only to give his obligatory information to the woman in the Border Patrol booth. She motioned him on without inquiring about his passenger. It was daybreak when they finally stopped to fill up again.

"Will you let me go to the bathroom?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Will you let me come with you?" he grinned.

She growled under her breath as she headed toward the doors marked 'Rest Rooms.' Victor laughed, pulling a coke from one of the gas station's refrigerated coolers and following her in.

"How long you and Logan been together?" he asked a rhetorical question. "You sound just like him."

Jesse shut the stall door in his face.

When she finished she found him at the counter, paying for a pile of snacks and drinks.

"Rough night?" the cashier asked, looking over Jesse's tangled hair and torn jeans. She felt Victor's claws scratch down her spine to remind her to be good.

"You have no idea."

At lunchtime, he pulled into a rest area that amounted to nothing more than some picnic tables and a public restroom. He doled out the snacks he had bought and offered her a beer. She took it simply because she was thirsty, downing the chips and doughnuts as he grinned.

"Why are you doing this?" She croaked, voice rusty from disuse and exposure to the wind.

"Jimmy needs to pay."

"You haven't seen Jimmy in three years," she challenged. "He's Logan now. He doesn't even remember you."

Victor's hand went to his chest in mock surprise. "How could he not remember me? We've been through everything together. Soldiers, mercenaries, spies. You name it, we done it. He's just like me."

"I doubt that," Jesse felt the alcohol hitting her empty stomach. "He can't be."

"Let's find out then," he said, eyes narrowing as he put down his drink and rounded the table. "He ever touch you like this?"

He buried his face against her neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. The next thing she knew he was snapping her head back and sinking fangs into her shoulder. A cry of pain escaped her, but Jesse took that opportunity to unleash all her pent up anger on him. Bringing a knee up with so much force that it jarred her spinal column and lit sparks behind her eyelids, she connected one of the hardest bones in her body with the most vulnerable spot on his. When he bent forward to protect his balls from another blow she used her elbow as Logan had taught, smashing it into his nose. Blood and surprise exploded across his face. The roar that came out of his mouth brought two words to Jesse's mind.

"_Injured bear_."

They were enough to cause her brain to pause, but her body had been trained so that she knew she had the upper hand. She stepped backward, following up her onslaught with a flying kick to the jaw. He stepped back, shaking his head a little, and wiping at the blood that trickled down his nose.

"Aw, Baby," he spat out a wad of blood at her feet. "Thank you for making this a hell of a lot more interesting. I was almost dying of boredom."

She searched the area around her for something to use as a weapon even as he stood upright, wiggled his nose and began to applaud. She knew she'd made contact. Knew she had to do some damage, but right before her eyes he took a seat at the table and picked up what was left of her beer.

"Jimmy's taught you some tricks," he gave her, looking down at his pants and adjusting his balls. Jesse fumed at the way he'd disengaged. Anger simmered off her as she waited for him to get back up, but all he did was laugh in her face.

"Let me tell you why this whole damn thing is so fuckin' funny. We are in the middle of nowhere. You can start running now but you won't get far. I can smell you from a mile away. I can break you with one kick. When I kill you, you'll just be another in a long line of Jimmy's women I've taken care of. Got that? If you behave, maybe, I'll wait till you see him again to do it. If not, I'll just hand him your head. It makes no difference to me. So fight." He stood to his feet, advancing again and pulling her against him.

"Or try and get away. It only makes the game more fun."

Jesse stared at him, refusing to believe this was how her life was going to end. Black eyes blazed as she defied his attempt to frighten her. Cocking his head, he growled in her face, turning her around and forcing her toward the bike again. They continued their trek deeper into the wilderness.

That night he decided they'd make camp in a clearing in the woods. He dragged her into the brush, keeping her ahead of him while he hunted. But he wasn't the only one searching for signs in the forest. Jesse took mental stock of the plants growing around her, searching for something to aid her escape. A spark of hope grew when she spotted something that looked like a plant her grandfather had used to help when she couldn't fall asleep. Without thinking, she grasped its stem and yanked it out of the ground. At the same moment, Victor pounced on something on the forest floor. She heard the death shriek of a rabbit and closed her eyes.

"I can cook that," she offered, sinking to the ground at the place where he'd made camp. "Raw meat is full of parasites."

Victor cocked his head at her. "You know, I'm almost gonna miss you when you're gone. You are in the middle of nowhere, at the mercy of a fun guy like me. And you're worried about parasites? Well look, I'm all outa matches."

"We don't need matches. I can do it with flint. Or some wood."

"No shit."

"No. We can use flint to skin it, too. If we can find some." She'd already stuffed as much of the valerian root in her pocket as she could without him taking notice. If he was like Logan, the herb wouldn't have an effect on him for long, but she knew all she needed was a head start.

"Where do we look?" he said, shoving a hand in his pocket and retrieving a lighter. He ran a thumb across it to produce a flame and Jesse felt her heart skip a beat.

"Flint really is outdated."

"I need to skin this," she spat, trying to hide her disappointment. Her attempt to find a weapon to use against him had just been shot down. Victor gave her one of his sardonic looks.

"What's wrong, scared you might get a hairball?" He pulled out a blade and accepted the rabbit, making quick work of the skinning and gutting. There were several stupid innuendos with the knife and the carcass, which Jesse chose to ignore. She gathered some fuel to make a small fire, then took a stick and skewered the animal. She brought out the root of the valerian plant then, crushing it and rubbing it into the carcass.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Just some goat grass," she answered. "For seasoning. Here, try it." She offered some of the root to him.

"Not unless you do," he shook his head. She bit off a piece of the root, pretending to eat it.

Satisfied, he took a bite of it too. Deciding he liked it, he stuffed what was left in his mouth. Jesse decided right then and there he was ferocious, but stupid.

The smell of cooking rabbit rose between them and Jesse sat back to watch the flames, spitting out the herb as soon as she could.

Victor decided the meat was ready long before it was truly done, but Jesse accepted a leg from him anyway. She knew she'd need the calories for when her chance came to run. She blew at the meat, pretending it was hot, all the while blowing away any valerian that still stuck to it. She knew it was a long shot that it would make him sleepy enough for her to make a break for it. Victor didn't seem worried that she'd try. He didn't know she'd spent years in the woods with her grandfather, playing this exact game. It wasn't life and death back then, but it was still survival. She leaned against a tree trunk and closed her eyes, opening up her other senses to the world around her. She could hear the wind blowing high above them. Slowly turning her face to its caress, she determined its direction. She'd have to stay down wind if she had any hope of getting away from him.

As the night wore on she could hear his breath become regular. She kicked out a foot, to see if he would startle at the sound. Then she threw her rabbit bone in the fire. He didn't stir. Without looking back, she leapt up, silently placing each foot in front of the other till she knew she'd put a little distance between them. She never saw Victor open his eyes and grin. His cat-and-mouse game had begun.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Jesse had forgotten how much control it took to run fast but stay quiet. While she wished for some moonlight to guide her she was glad for the scudding clouds. They would help her disappear into the darkness. With every footfall she searched the forest floor for anything that would facilitate her flight. She sent a silent prayer to the creatures of the forest, asking for help, cover and protection as she drove herself deeper into the woods. She didn't know where she was going but that didn't matter. Especially since she didn't really know where she was.

Her biggest problem was scent. She couldn't wash hers away. She searched the forest floor for something she could use to mask it, deer droppings, bear scat, anything that would cover the fact that she was the alien here. But the forest had a better idea. Hearing a rustle in the brush she darted instinctively toward the sound, taking no heed to the growling, hissing protest it sent her.

"Come on little brother," she whispered, advancing on the animal without mercy. He stopped running and turned in her direction but Jesse was interested in his other end. She picked up a rock and tossed it at him, thankful for once her aim was true. Diving forward as he struggled to dart away, she was rewarded with a spray of the most vile smelling odor she'd ever experienced. The skunk sprayed her angrily, hissing and snapping as he tried to turn and attack. She let him go, eyes watering, nostrils burning, and barely able to breathe. Nobody would be able to detect her scent now.

Logan tried calling Jesse again. The fact that she hadn't called back only heightened the sense of foreboding that had settled on him when Lena put her voodoo doll in his care. He knew Jesse better than that.

"She would call me if she needed me," he insisted, holding on for dear life as Remy's plane bounced through some intense turbulence over Kentucky.

"Maybe her already facin' de saber tooth," Lena tossed her words at him over her shoulder. "It's a big cat. Big teeth. Big claws. Big anger."

Logan looked away, fingering the doll still clutched in his hand. Without thinking he pulled the wooden wolverine out of his pocket. Using the doll's fabric arms he bound the two pieces together. Feeling eyes on him he looked up.

"Can't hurt," he answered Lena questioning gaze. "It ain't messin with some kinda spell you put on it or anything?"

"No, Logan," she replied, turning away to stare out the plane's front window. She didn't want to tell him that she'd only made the doll in a desperate attempt to scare him back to his girlfriend.

"Can't hurt," Tears shimmered unshed in her eyes as she echoed his words. She glanced over at Remy, who was busy at the controls of his plane and oblivious to the love story unfolding behind him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she wondered at the element of the human condition that never placed true value on things until they were snatched away.

* * *

><p>Daylight found Jesse still running. She knew she had to stop soon, or her body would fail her. She had to replace the calories she was burning somehow, and she needed to think. She needed time to call out to the spirits she needed favor from, time to come up with a plan.<p>

"Work smarter, not harder," was one of Logan's mantras she'd learned in the sparring ring. Running full speed into the wild without a direction was not working smart. But for now it was all she had.

A burning thirst finally caused her to stop her flight and seek a water source. Slowing down to a walk, she began peeling bits of bark back from the trees she passed. Her reward was the occasional grub worm she popped in her mouth and swallowed without thinking. In her mind she heard Logan's voice say _"I knew you weren't like the other girls."_ Hearing him gave her a smile and made her feet feel lighter.

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

* * *

><p>Sabertooth woke up at dawn, groggy and disoriented. He stood to his feet, surrounded by a fog so thick he could only see a few feet in front of him.<p>

"What the hell?"

The fire had long since been snuffed by the thick moisture in the air and a cold chill had settled over everything. He'd only meant to nap for an hour or so to give his prey a head start, not sleep through the night. Above him an owl screeched, invading the clearing with an explosion of feathers and claws and landing directly overhead. The noise caused something even bigger to startle not far from where he stood. Lost in the fog, he backed away, circling the camp site and casting about for Jesse's scent. Frustration rose as he came up with nothing. Crashing into the forest, he tried to find her trail, but the mist continued to swirl about him, rolling in like the tide.

"Where the hell did you disappear to?" He demanded, heading one way for a few hundred yards, then changing direction.

"Come on little bitch. You won't get away. I'll find you in the end. And so will Jimmy. Just like he found all the others."

He roared in frustration and anger, pulling saplings from the ground and tossing them aside.

"Dead, Bitch!" he shouted. "That's how he found the others. And that's how he's gonna find you."

* * *

><p>Jesse climbed high into a tree that night, determining that nothing could sneak up on her there. She also knew it would be hard to give in to the exhausted sleep her body craved if she felt unbalanced and insecure. It wasn't time to rest yet. She still needed answers. Hopefully the first light of day would bring some. For the first time in nearly three days, she allowed herself to be still.<p>

Dusk stole upon her slowly as she lifted her eyes toward the sky. The North star winked and for a moment she basked in its companionship, remembering the story Charlie Ray had told her about how it had once been a mountain goat who had only wanted to climb. Leaves rustled around her as her eyes adjusted to the oncoming dark of night. When she closed them she was sure she heard strains of flute music calling to her on the breeze. She knew her feral senses would never be as heightened as Logan's, but here she could sense the spirit world in ways he'd never know. It felt as though if she reached out a hand she'd feel something, someone… close and watching over her. For a moment she allowed herself to pretend she was living three hundred years in the past, like her ancestors, dependent on the benevolent forces around her. Perhaps it was the over-exertion her body had experienced, or the lack of food and prolonged stress that caused something within her to snap.

"My grandfather calls me 'Brighter Than a Thousand Suns'," she told the universe. "Do you see me? Do you see my enemy? His warrior ways are stronger than mine, but I am your daughter. I have lived my life by the Way of The People. I have honored You. Now I ask for Your favor. I know I am but a small thing in Your sight, but I want to live. To look upon the ashes of my enemy. This is something only You can do."

Tears of exhaustion leaked from her eyes as she was rewarded by a fresh gust of wind. She allowed its peace to settled her mind.

"I will continue to follow Your Ways," she whispered. "I will teach them to my people. If You bring me back to them again."

* * *

><p>Dawn revealed to Jesse that the lay of the land was changing. Heavy brush gave way to grasslands as the whole valley opened to a swiftly flowing river. It was beautiful scenery, but Jesse felt a weight settle on her shoulders. She had been well covered by forest and dense underbrush up to this point. It would be hard to hide in such grassy, open terrain. She determined to follow the river's south bank, as much of the forest grew right up to the water's edge. She couldn't see what kind of country she'd be dealing with after a bend in the river, but she knew she could use the water as a last means of escape.<p>

A herd of deer made their way to the northern bank as Jesse watched from her perch. Their behavior calmed her. It said there was nothing out of the ordinary anywhere close by. Birds chirped and hopped in the surrounding branches, letting her know for a moment she could relax. The spirits did not feel as heavy as they had been the night before, but they seemed peaceful. Happy even. Jesse opened her senses to the wind as it caressed the scars on her cheek.

_"You listen well, my Bright One."_

Jesse almost lost her balance and fell out of the tree at the sound of her grandfather's voice.

"Charlie Ray?" she whispered.

_"You have been running too long. Let today restore you. All of this will soon be at an end."_

Jesse felt tears prick her eyelids. "I have to keep going," she argued. "There's a hunter behind me."

_"I know what's behind you,"_ he said, in the singsong way that she'd loved so dearly. When she closed her eyes she could see him, dressed in his ever-present denim shirt. Two gray braids fell the length of his chest, entwined with long black raven feathers and decorations mostly made by his granddaughter. His dark, leathery face was creased with laugh lines, but it was the sparkle of life in his eyes that she had missed the most.

_"What's ahead has not been set in stone. Tomorrow you will be with warriors of earth or sky. Either way, your race is run, you win. You have found favor with the Spirits, for you have held on to their ways."_

"I want to be with Logan, Poppa. I want to live. I want to bring him children. I want to teach your ways."

_"Today is all we ever have, my Bright One,"_ he said, his voice carried off by the wind.

"Please don't leave me yet," she shouted. "What about the Saber tooth?"

_"He is not here yet. Go play with the bears."_

"Bears?"

Charlie Ray didn't answer. As his presence receded she came back to herself, climbing down from her perch to set off toward the river's southern edge, saddened, and more confused than ever.

Walking here was easier than weaving her way through heavy underbrush. The sun warmed her shoulders as she got closer to the water. She found a sheltered stream that branched off from the river and followed it to a secluded cove. Falling to her knees she began flipping rocks, searching for crayfish and frogs. The forest's offerings weren't a Tony's hamburger, but life flowed abundantly here. She took advantage, breaking crawfish in half and prying off their shells to feast on their tails.

"Good thing I'm not a diva." She managed a smile, examining her broken, filthy fingernails, muddy knees and tattered t-shirt. Squelching down the protests her stomach made at the different food groups she'd been subjecting it too had almost become easy. And something about connecting to the spirit world had given her much-needed hope. She spent the rest of the day close to the stream, resting and looking for food. As night fell she longed for the cheer and warmth a fire would bring, but knew sending up smoke would reveal her position. Clearing out a burrow under the shelter of a fallen tree, she curled herself into a ball to try and keep warm. Her dirt-lined cocoon kept in some of her body heat. She was able to doze off and on through the night.

Birds woke her an hour before daylight. She crawled from her lair, a little frightened that she'd spent so much time in one place. Drinking from the stream made her nervous too, but she had no other option.

She walked along the riverbank, eyes open for any kind of food source. Knowing she wouldn't be cooking narrowed her choices dramatically. As if to distract her from her troubles, more and more wildlife became apparent. A moose and her calf shied nervously away from her, startled when she came upon them feeding on marsh grass. She took their suggestion, pulling some grass and popping it into her mouth. It was bitter and tasted much like the muddy water it grew in, so she quickly spat it out. Moving on, she dropped to one knee to watch as a fox flitted across her path. It was easy to see why her grandfather would advise her to enjoy this day. Before she'd gone much farther she had a long gray heron feather of her own. She pulled a thread from one of the many holes in her jeans and tied it into her hair.

"I will be Iroquois if I die this day," she offered her hands to the sky. "See me, Great Spirit. You have left me on this plane so far. It is not in Your way to send hope only to take it back again. I have lived. I have loved. Under Your sun. Your moon has given light to all my nights. If it's time for me to join my grandfather in the spirit world I need You to know that I'm thankful. Thankful I had someone like him to teach me the ways of the People. Thankful for each sunrise and sunset. Thankful for Logan.." It got harder to talk here. Dropping to her knees, she continued.

"Logan… who saved my life in so many ways. I don't want to die today, Great Spirit. But if I do, look on me with favor and bring me back to Charlie Ray."

As if in answer, two fat grizzly cubs made their way down stream at her right hand. She guessed they had to be at least two years old. Watching them play on the bank while their mother fished made Jesse smile. Something was spawning, but the cubs were not so hungry that they'd venture out into the water. Jesse watched as their mother swatted a fat sturgeon their way, its belly swollen with eggs it was carrying farther north to its breeding grounds. The bears shuffled over to it, mock-fighting over who would get the first bite. Jesse's hunger got the best of her. She crouched in the grass, waiting till the cubs were distracted. When their mother swatted another fish their way, she darted in and grabbed the first. A warm gush of eggs filled her mouth as she ripped the sturgeon's belly open with her teeth. She gulped them down greedily, all the while keeping an eye on the family of bears.

She followed them as they made their way downstream. Nothing in their lives needed to be rushed, they were secure in their habitat. The afternoon yielded a blueberry patch that delighted animal and human alike. They continued to amble in close proximity to the river and ended up several miles downstream from where Jesse had first seen them. They decided to go fishing again, but she stayed on the bank, unwilling to trust her balance to the swift-moving water.

Moments later she heard a roar. A male grizzly had come upon the female and her cubs. The mama bear stopped what she was doing and sent them out of the water. They ran, whining, to a nearby group of trees. Their mother advanced on the male, rising on her hind legs with a roar that answered his own. Jesse followed her advice and also climbed one of the trees. From there she could see where she'd been and where she was going.

In the distance she could also see a saber tooth.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Logan's worst fears were realized when he got to the apartment and found it barred by yellow crime scene tape. Three sheriff's deputies were there, taking pictures and studying evidence. He pushed back the tape and rushed inside, only to be stopped by a familiar face. Ben Greyhawk, the Iroquois County Sheriff.

"Whoa, Logan don't make a move," he held up a hand.

"Where's Jess?" Logan demanded.

"I was hoping like hell you could tell me."

Logan dropped to one knee and bent to pick up one of the tattered wampum belts that used to hang on the wall. Its beads fell away from it like water in the palm of his hand.

"You have any idea what this is about?" The sheriff continued. The answer was obvious but it had to be asked.

"I've been out of town," Logan answered. "In New Orleans." Against the lawman's wishes he crossed the living room to Charlie Ray's broken peace pipe. Picking up the pieces, he held them against his chest.

"When did you get back?" Ben continued his line of questioning.

"Just now, dammit," he answered, angered that he hadn't been here to fight off Jesse's attacker. "I have friends coming that can vouch for me. Whatever you need."

"I'm just doing my job, Brother." Ben spoke softly so Logan would know he had an ally. "We both want a happy ending here. Anyone you can think of that mighta wanted to hurt Jesse? Cuz I've known her all my life and I can't think of anyone. Daniel's the only one she ever pissed off and there's no way he's got the strength to pull something like this."

"I don't think they were after Jesse." Logan admitted. "They came here for me."

Just then they heard a cry from out in the street. Logan turned at the sound of

Lena's voice. He ducked past the tape again to join her and Remy out by Jesse's truck. While he watched she knelt to pick up shards of what used to be a stone hunting axe.

_"Aww hell, you made me miss,"_ came out of her mouth in a voice Logan vaguely recognized.

"Shit," Remy spat. "I know that voice. I stop you from killin' him once. That's Victor Creed."

Lena's eyes were closed. "Dis one stir him up some bad juju in breakin all dis things. De spirits not happy." She looked up at Logan, narrowing her eyes. "You de only one who can kill dis one. An you de only one can save Jesse."

Logan growled in anger, metal claws erupting from fists that longed to smash into something. He turned from them, only to be faced with Sheriff Greyhawk.

"These friends of yours?"

The claws retracted but the anger simmered under the surface, waiting. He nodded toward the others.

"Remy LeBeau. Lena Viega. They flew here from New Orleans. Lena's psychic. Maybe she can find something here that'll lead us to Jesse."

Ben's eyes narrowed but he shrugged. "Anything's worth a try. They got a plane? We have two 'copters on standby with search and rescue. All we need is a direction. We know they left town straight down Main Street. After that it gets iffy."

Lena used the men and their conversation as her moment to break away. She stepped into the shattered apartment, feeling the upheaval and turmoil as if it had only just happened. Drawn by forces she didn't understand but had spent a lifetime trusting, she drifted through the living room and into Logan's bedroom. It was quiet here, no anger, no fear. She felt the heaviness of sorrow first. Jesse's wooden box lay partially hidden under the bed. Curious, Lena picked it up. Inside was Jesse's thick, black braid. It was coming unraveled at one end, but still secured with a turquoise-laden elastic band at the other. Although it lay still in Lena's grasp, to the psychic it came alive. It passed things on to her that Jesse herself would never have been able to explain. Her dedication to everything that had been taught by her grandfather. The uncertainties that were rooted in the way her mother had left her, but mostly the strength of her wild spirit. Lena knew immediately how much of Jesse's heart belonged to Logan and the devastation his leaving had wrought. The heavy decision she knew she had to make on existing, versus actually living, had never been made, at least while Jesse's hair had still been attached to her head.

"Dis one in a dangerous place," she muttered. She left the bedroom, once again being hit with the wall of anger and hate still swirling about the living room. A bloodied piece of glass told her its story and she nodded, glad that Jesse fought back. Reaching the kitchen entryway she turned, placing her fingertips in the gouges left in the wood by Victor Creed.

"Canada," she said, unaware till that moment that Logan, Remy and the sheriff had all been watching. "Him take her dare. Him look for you."

Logan tensed as Victor's voice came from her mouth.

_"Where's Jimmy?"_

Suddenly Logan had taken all that he could stand. Claws flashed and did more damage to the furniture that had failed to protect his woman. Walls that had already seen their share of damage were subjected to more. The television shattered, the coffee table disintegrated. When his anger had been spent he found himself standing before the tattered remains of the wolverine painting. He dropped to his knees, pulling the canvas to his chest.

"I'm gonna catch you, Pocahontas," he vowed. "If it's the last thing I do on this earth. I'm gonna be there when you fall outa the sky."

Lena took that moment approach him, still clutching Jesse's shorn braid in her hand. She held it out to him, exchanging it for the wolverine canvas. The braid in his hand was more than Logan could take.

"She cut off her hair to symbolize her mourning." Greyhawk said, doing his best to keep the bitterness out of his voice. There was much more he wanted to add, but after witnessing Logan's anger first hand, he decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

Wolverine growled, standing to his feet. He strode across to his bedroom and placed Jesse's braid back in the box where Lena had found it. On returning he faced her.

"Can you find her?"

Lena nodded, raising up the canvas as if in explanation.

"Dis de las' thing she touch before she leave here. And de medicine strong. It take us to Jesse."

She rolled up the painting and tucked it under her arm, running to catch up to Logan and Remy, who were already loading into the truck.

* * *

><p>It fell to Sheriff Greyhawk to decide when and if to send out an official rescue team. He knew he had to have more than a general direction before he could waste precious resources like helicopters and men. The fact that he was gambling with a life that was more precious to him than anybody knew, wasn't helping his decision. But the risk of not having what he needed when he finally needed it was greater than his need to rush off and be a hero. He knew Jesse. He knew her heart and her beliefs. And though he never claimed to be a shaman he had sensed a little of the anger that had been released at the defiling of so many ancient artifacts. Consoling himself with the idea that Jesse had more help than what she could see, he paced the floor of his office, waiting for direction.<p>

"We got a couple a visuals." One of Greyhawk's deputies burst into the room, excited to bring some hope into the situation. All of the Cedar Ridge had heard about Jesse's abduction. The entire community was waiting to hear some good news.

Slapping two grainy photographs onto the sheriff's desk he announced what had been found.

"Canadian border security cam." he pointed to one of Victor on his motorcycle, with Jesse slumped over in front of him.

"This one's from a convenience store farther north and west. The owner was concerned that this female was in trouble. He got the pic off video surveillance and forwarded it to local authorities there. I got the address. This was the last place either of these people was seen."

Greyhawk leaned forward to look at the pictures. It cheered him to see Jesse obviously glaring at her captor, who had an arm secure around her waist.

"I think there's a chance she's still alive," the deputy continued.

Ben checked the photo's time stamp. Three days had gone by since it had been taken. Add another to make its way into his hands. It was his decision as to whether or not they call out search and rescue. He shrugged, but inside he wanted to agree with the deputy.

"Come on Sheriff, you know she's still alive. We're talking about Jesse Culver here. Charlie Ray's kid. She knows how to survive in the woods. She can do this."

Greyhawk met his deputy's eyes and gave him a nod.

"Jesse was born to do this."

He was on the phone requesting a rescue team before his deputy made it out the door.

* * *

><p>A thought occurred to Jesse as she climbed out of her tree, more willing to face a pair of fighting grizzlies than a saber tooth. Instead of fleeing downstream, like she had been, she doubled back, threading her way through the underbrush toward her attacker. This time she would be the one to orchestrate where he spotted her, and when. She backtracked in silence until once again she reached the bend she'd passed in the river. Its water was the only means of escape for her now, so she emerged from the forest, running across the grasslands and launching into it. Knowing her enemy had seen her made her heart skip a beat. It had come down to do or die for Jesse. She was sure Sabertooth still thought he was in control. A ghost of a smile graced her lips as strong currents pulled her away from him.<p>

"_I wish I could see it when you meet my new friends."_

A log floated past and she grabbed it, silently asking the river to help her along in her journey.

"Your current is faster than my feet can carry me. I only ask that you hinder my enemy, so I can see the sun tomorrow."

Miles away, Sabertooth did see his prey take to the water. He crouched, running on all fours like the animal he was. He wasn't about to let a little thing like a river steal away all his fun. It had taken him three days track down this one. He wasn't about to give up now.


	16. Chapter 16

"I see something," Remy spoke as the little bi-wing's altitude dropped them closer to the area where Lena had sensed the Sabertooth. Dropping further revealed a man on the bank of the river they'd been following, flanked on two sides by large, territorial bears. Remy banked the plane and pulled up so he and Lena could keep an eye out for Jesse.

"Remy, look dare!" Lena spotted her first, riding a log and braving the rapids down the ever-narrowing river. Silence gripped them as the panorama unfolded. Jesse was doing her best to stick to the deepest part of the river, nearly four miles away from a 60-foot waterfall. Remy pushed the plane's throttle forward, hoping to find a way to rescue her before she got that far.

Seeing Jesse's form bobbing through rapids was enough to set Logan into motion.

"Buckle in," he pointed to Remy and Lena. "I'm poppin' this door." Both mutants took him at his word. When the wind currents shifted and the side hatch opened, they were ready.

"I'm goin out there, Gambit," he continued. "Just circle around and get me underneath her. I'll take it from there."

"Logan, you can't just jump," Lena tried to protest but Remy cut her off.

"He don' just spect to catch her…?"

"He got this, Chere, he know what he doin."

Jesse never heard the plane above her, nor did she hear the bears roar when they both attacked Victor. The water that was dragging her mercilessly over rocky outcroppings and swirling rapids prevented her from seeing Logan claw his way to the top of Remy's plane. If she had been able to see him crouching, anchored to the bi-wing by adamantium claws, raw strength and determination, her heart would have stopped in her chest. All Jesse knew was the roar of the water, the bruising and battering of rocks and the pull of a current she had no strength left to fight. She was coming to the end of her journey. The reality of where she would wake up tomorrow had settled over her like the water that chilled every part of her being. She reminded herself that to lose her life on this plane was to find it among the spirits. Soon she would rejoin her beloved Charlie Ray and tell her father she forgave him. Her life had started with them, and so back to them it was going. Even with this peace, her heart was heavy for Logan. She had loved him with all that she had. She didn't want to leave him, wasn't ready to watch over him from as far away as the stars. Still clinging to her sodden log to buffer her from the current's worst, she stretched a hand toward the sky. The log bobbed and tossed so much she knew that soon she'd have to let it go. But just one more time she wanted to raise her face to the sun and thank the Great Spirit for life. With a deep breath she whispered to the universe, thanking the water for taking her life as opposed to her enemy. Then she let go of the log and surrendered, wondering how it would feel to fall out of the sky.

As she succumbed to the river's embrace her grandfather's favorite lullaby sounded in her ears.

"_Don't worry _

_About a thing -_

_Cuz every little thing_

_Is gonna be alright_."

It calmed her to hear his reminder. When she had been little and they'd sung the song together he had let her keep the drumbeat. Now as her body bobbed in the rapids, buffeted by rocks below and water above, she felt like she had when he had rocked her as a child. It was good to know the transition from one world to the next was a peaceful one. Like she had as a child, she surrendered to the darkness, knowing she'd wake up in a much better place.

Downstream Remy banked his plane carefully and headed back around to the waterfall, glancing up every so often at the place where Logan's claws protruded through the roof. As long as they were there, he knew his friend was still hanging on.

"How dis gon' work, Remy LeBeau?" Lena asked. "He jus gon' jump an catch her?"

Remy said nothing for a long moment, eyes intent on locking in on Jesse so he could calculate the best speed and altitude.

"If he push off dis plane hard enough he land on dat far side," Remy pointed ahead of them. "Gonna be a rough landing, but I think he can handle it."

He pushed the little plane ever closer to the cliff face, dipping lower, then backing off, all in an attempt to be at the right place at the right time. The aircraft swayed as Logan stood to his feet, one hand still anchored in its metal skin.

Even a few hundred yards from the falls Logan could feel its mist and the air currents that rose to buffet both him and the plane. He sensed Jesse's body hurtling forward above him and shouted out to the only spirit he knew.

"This was your dream, Charlie Ray!" He shouted over the waterfall's roar. "Gimme what I need to make it come true. Either that or take both of us."

Using every bit of strength he had, Logan launched himself toward the opposite side of the falls, just as Jesse hurtled over the edge. They met in midair as she crashed against him, the momentum from their impact pushing them both toward the rock-strewn bank at the bottom. Logan wrapped his arms and legs around her, turning so his back would take the brunt of the impact. Hitting the ground knocked him out for a minute. When he came to he had Jesse in his arms but she wasn't breathing.

"Come on Jess," he sat up among jagged rocks and soft, muddy earth, skin closing over cut and bleeding flesh even as he repositioned himself and pulled her up into his arms.

From above, Remy circled his plane, looking for a spot where he could land.

"You think they're ok?" Lena spoke mostly to herself.

"Don' underestimate the Wolverine," Remy assured her. "Now we jus gotta figure out a way to get them both outa there."

The drumbeat in Jesse's lullaby got louder, feeling as though it were pounding throughout her entire body. She saw a circle of warriors dancing under the stars, a small group of drummers stood to one side, keeping the beat. Her song faded and a chant took over, as warriors in full regalia, bells tinkling at their ankles, eagle-feathered headdresses waving to the stars, raised their voices to the heavens. They were saying something, but she was too far away to make out the words. Sometimes it came out in Iroquois, sometimes in English. The beat never varied, only its intensity grew. Finally the word became clear to her.

"Live," they chanted over and over.

"Live."

The meaning was not lost on Jesse. After all she'd been through, the word held more meaning to her now than ever. Struggling to get closer to the sacred circle, she placed a hand on one of the drummer's shoulders. Her father turned his face to her, tears dripping down his cheeks.

"Live, Jesse."

In a rickety bi-plane directly overhead, another voice joined in the chant. It had a Caribbean accent, but that didn't seem to matter.

"Live."

Then the word was spoken by another voice. The drumming stopped. A huge weight of water was expelled from Jesse's stomach as Logan turned on her side. With all her strength Jesse reached for the voice she loved above all others.

"Live, Jesse. Live."

Her body coughed and spasmed, desperate to rid itself of the water trapped in her lungs, even more desperate to replace that water with much-needed oxygen.

"Come on Pocahontas, I need you to live."

With what strength she had left she curled her fingers around his hand, still gasping for air. Closing her eyes again she saw one last vision of Charlie Ray.

"He did it," she told him. "Just like you said."

Though her voice was gone, she opened her eyes for one brief moment. Beckoning Logan closer, she managed to speak two raspy words into his ear.

"Nice catch."

"Jesse," Logan called her back to semi-consciousness, even as he heard a rescue 'copter flying over. He smoothed back her hair, running his fingers through the shortened locks. A crew would be on them in minutes. He wasn't yet ready to let the rest of the world intrude.

"Sabertooth?" Jesse managed, as Logan kissed the scars on her cheek.

"I'm thinking parts of him'll be bear shit soon," Logan whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me."

Jesse opened her eyes, frowning and shaking her head in disagreement. "You were there. You were with me all the way. Victor woulda killed me back in the apartment if it wasn't for you." She leaned heavily against him as the effort to speak sapped her strength.

"He'da never got that chance if I'da stayed where I belong."

Jesse squeezed his hand and shook her head again. "You were there when I needed you," she managed. "You were there when I fell out of the sky."

Logan held her tight as he watched a rescue crew disembark from one of Sheriff Greyhawk's helicopters, body board and first aid equipment in tow.

"I'm hungry, can we go to Tony's?" Jesse whined, not quite conscious. Logan smiled against her cheek as he felt her hand find the side of his face.

"Whatever you want, kid. Soon as we get home. You just name it."

The first EMT was working his way toward them, threading between pools of water and craggy outcroppings of rock.

"What if all I want is you?"

Logan laughed a little, the sound a reminder that it was something he hadn't done in a while.

"You sure about that?"

She nodded, even as the rescue team began to maneuver her out of his arms.

"Everything all right here?" The EMT asked, crouching to assess the situation.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

Jesse nodded, far from willing to let go of Logan now that she had him back.

"I'm alright." She whispered, locking eyes with Wolverine.

"Every little thing… is gonna be alright."

As the moon rose and bathed the wilderness known as Cedar Ridge with its light, a rustling could be heard in the proximity of an old Indian man's cabin. They had hunted him and his people down and forced them onto this Reservation. Then they had broken every promise they'd ever made. None of that mattered to him anymore. He sat with his back against a giant oak tree, waiting for a friend. That friend came, silhouetted in silver and grumpy as ever.

Charlie Ray watched, eyes crinkling with laughter, as the wolverine trundled across his back porch and stood up, chattering something to the old man, then disappearing into the forest. He raised his pipe in salute. A puff of smoke left his mouth, enveloping Jesse's grandfather, and soon he too had disappeared, leaving nothing but his voice upon the wind.

"You did well, my friend, and I thank you."

The End.


End file.
